


Voyage the Moon

by MikoAlanna



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Harry Potter and the Cursed Child - Thorne & Rowling
Genre: Angst, Bisexual Remus Lupin, Canon Compliant, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Jewish Remus Lupin, M/M, hella gay
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-03
Updated: 2017-04-30
Packaged: 2018-10-14 06:37:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 28,057
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10530939
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MikoAlanna/pseuds/MikoAlanna
Summary: After sacrificing his life at the Battle of Hogwarts, Remus finds himself in the afterlife with deceased souls who are most important to him. The trouble is, both Sirius and Nymphadora fit that bill. Remus must navigate the intricacies of two very different loves while watching his son grow up from afar. In the process, he might just learn something about himself.





	1. Beyond the Battle

**Author's Note:**

> The characters of Harry Potter are the brainchild of JK Rowling. If some quotes sound familiar, they were probably taken verbatim from the text to show Remus's perspective on the matter.

Remus Lupin was dead.

He felt himself drifting, distanced from the melee of the battle below. Adrenaline still ran through him, he could feel it coursing through his veins, but it was — different, somehow. Did he even have veins? Here he was, hovering over the Great Hall and certain that he should be down there, he should be fighting, but—

It was the Grey Lady who found him, who told him. She who snapped him out of his state of shock when she said, “I never thought you would choose this path.”

He turned, or tried to and felt vertigo as the world lurched around him.

“Acceleration hold a direct relation to mass,” the Grey Lady said. “Your mass has changed. Therefore, you must compensate.”

Path. Mass. The words trickled through his haze, but they did not make sense together. “What— what spell—”

“Killed you?” she said, and he jerked— or tried to, a habit of muscle that felt more like trying to dance through a hangover. “I didn’t see, but look. There’s your body.”

And so it was. He followed her pointing finger to see himself, ragged and far greyer than he had been even a year ago, sprawled face first in the shadow of the broad staircase. He was just far enough removed not to be trampled on, but a number of their side stumbled as they saw him, stumbled past him, then had to snap their attention back to whatever Death Eater they were taking down.

A flash of deep magenta caught his eye, and there was Dora dueling two Death Eaters at once. Remus reached for his wand but found only an empty pocket. Dead. 

Right. He was dead. He couldn’t help Tonks as she threw jinxes in quick succession, as she dove and parried and paused not a moment. She could handle herself, he thought, desperately. She was a full auror and far craftier than anyone gave her credit for.

Except she had just given birth.

Remus blanched. She had given birth to Teddy, the child Remus never thought he would have, barely a month ago. Remus knew her body had not yet recovered, let alone returned to full fighting form. And even as he thought it, Tonks fell, collapsing like a rag doll to the floor. And she was not out of the way, she was not removed from the action, and almost immediately a seventh year stumbled over her and cried out. And Remus cried out too, seeing a hooded Death Eater approach, and the student fell on top of her.

Remus looked around wildly. He didn’t see her. He didn’t see her along the ceiling as he was. That meant she still lived. She must have survived the strike. She was too injured to move, or pretending to be, or—

“Their spirits have left their bodies.” The Grey Lady had come up beside him, her gaze following his. “They didn’t even rise before moving on. Their time here is complete.”

For the first time, Remus looked at her squarely. Never a cheerful woman, the Grey Lady looked especially mournful now as she surveyed the chaos below. He tried to begin speaking several times before he was able to form the words. “Why them and not me?”

Her gaze flickered up to him, and she saw a glint of pale blue before she returned her attention to the battle. “It is as the stories go. Your work is unfinished.”

“But Dora…”

“I did not pay much mind to her days at Hogwarts. But from what I remember, she took change into stride. The bullying. Breaking up with that Ravenclaw, Terry Sims. She would not linger where she was not meant to be.”

“So I’m not meant to be here?” Remus demanded. “I can’t just leave my friends to die.”

She stared coolly at him. A long moment passed before he understood.

“So I’m a ghost, then? Helpless to change the outcome of this battle, stuck watching students go about their lives if the Order wins tonight?”

“To become a ghost takes a great deal of intention. And a great deal of fear. You, Remus Lupin, could become a ghost if you decided that the right path. You could guide guide future generations of Hogwarts students from a distance, though never be a true mentor as if you were flesh and blood. Or you could move on. This battle will be over soon, one way or another. Your decision will last for eternity.”

Faces flashed through his mind. Harry. Hermione. Dean, Seamus, Luna, the Weasley children. All students whom he was able to guide. Though, he thought wryly, remembering the map, with Fred and George the guidance was rather unintentional.

Then another face. Small and cherubic, with eyes that oscillated between Nymphadora’s hazel and his own golden brown. Teddy. His Teddy, who would be parentless after this night. Who he loved more than he ever knew he could love being, who he would never get to see grow up.

Unless he chose to stay.

Before he could decide for certain, a great ringing filled the air. Voldemort’s voice, magically amplified and all the more painful to Remus’s werewolf ears even now, echoed through the hall. “You have fought valiantly. Lord Voldemort knows how to value bravery.”

Remus tuned him out, taking the moment of respite to survey the combatants. There was Molly Weasley, Kingsley Shaklebolt, Filius Flitwick. There were a handful of seventh years, D.A. members Remus himself had taught. He forced his gaze to pass over the fallen, to focus on the living, to reassure himself that they still had a chance. As he looked, the absence of three particular figures grew more troubling. Where were Harry and his friends?

“I shall wait for one hour in the Forbidden Forest. One hour…”

The Forest. Always the Forest. Some of Remus’s greatest memories were among those trees, both human and through the fog of the wolf. Then again, he reminded himself, so were some of his worst. Waking up after a full moon to learn he’d nearly murdered Severus Snape. Waking up some two decades later to learn he’d nearly murdered the son of his oldest friend. And now… now, he felt something inside telling him what he must do.

To the Forest. To protect Harry Potter, one last time.

***

He found Voldemort easily enough. The Forbidden Forest held many secrets, more than he would ever learn, but his adventures on four paws had given him a fairly thorough sense of the place. In the clearing Remus picked out the shock of white-gold that was Naricissa Malfoy’s hair, and wild curls belonging to Bellatrix. Remus waited, knowing that Harry would come, certain he would channel his parents’ selfless bravery this one last time.

Remus couldn’t save him. There was a little a ghost could do in the corporeal world, and he wasn’t even certain he was a ghost. Would Harry even be able to see him? Could he give the boy a final goodbye?

But he would be there for James’s son. For Sirius’ godson, since neither of them could be here. And for Remus’s own student, whom he wished he’d had so much more time to teach about magic and morals and his parents’ short lives. Remus had been so foolish. So wrapped up in self-loathing when he could have reached out to Harry the moment the boy returned to the wizarding world. Remus could have given him a lifeline and instead, he’d watched from afar.

Would the afterlife give him even that? A chance to watch over Harry and Teddy?

After some time, he felt a tug below his navel. Almost like a portkey, but urging him through the forest rather than through the fabric of space. Curious, he gave himself to the feeling, and in a blink found himself looking at Harry.

Harry grasped a snitch in one hand, a darkly sparkling object in his other. He turned it, a stone Remus thought, over once and squeezed.

Remus felt the tug again, but he had nowhere to go. He looked around and cried out in surprise. Beside him stood Sirius, his Sirius, but without the scars or tattoos or gaunt frame he had never managed to shake after Azkaban. Remus was looking at a twenty year old version of Sirius, and Sirius—Sirius kept glancing between him and Harry.

Harry turned the stone one more time, and this time Remus was prepared when James and Lily materialized, hands clasped and attention fixed on their son.  
Harry opened his eyes.

Remus wiped any uncertainty off his face, knowing that this final Marauders mission would be the most important of all. Harry was unquestionably walking to his death, and they would be with him as they weren’t able to in life.

“You’ve been so brave,” said Lily. Remus’s heart clenched. How long since he had heard her voice, still as sweet and strong as he remembered.

“You are nearly there,” James told his son. “Very close. We are…so proud of you.”

“Does it hurt?” Harry asked, and in that question Remus could see the small, scared child who had spent years of his life locked up in a cupboard. Because Remus, the only Marauder to escape that Halloween night, had told himself Harry would be better off without him.

Beside him, Sirius shifted. Remus thought he caught Sirius’s gaze flicker over to him, ever so briefly, before returning to Harry. “Dying? Not at all. Quicker and easier than falling asleep.”

Remus had to be strong. Had to help this beautiful, extraordinary boy—young man—be strong. “And he will want it to be quick. He wants it over.”

“I didn’t want you to die,” Harry said. “Any of you. I’m sorry—right after you’d had your son…Remus, I’m sorry—”

“I am sorry too,” said Remus. “Sorry I will never know him…but he will know why I died and I hope he will understand. I was trying to make a world in which he could live a happier life.”

Remus wondered if the rules of this in-between space would allow him to visit Teddy one last time. He realized, now, that he had been allowed to stay here for this one conversation. But surely the powers at work would let him say goodbye to his son?

“You’ll stay with me?” asked Harry.

“Until the very end,” said James.

“They won’t be able to see you?”

“We are part of you,” said Sirius, and this time Remus couldn’t have mistaken the slight turn in his direction. Not looking away from Harry, but including Remus in his words as well. “Invisible to anyone else.”

Harry studied them all, his gaze settling on Lily the longest. Remus felt something inside of him crack.

The four of them watched as Harry donned James’s cloak, disappearing into the shadows as they had all done at one time or another. They followed his progress to  
Voldemort’s camp and Remus shivered as ghostly fingers brushed his own. He did not look at Sirius, forced his focus to stay on the boy before them. Sirius kept pace with him a bit longer, then drifted over to James’s side. Sirius and James watched Harry with identical hunger, drinking in every feature while Harry still brimmed with life. It would not be the same when Harry joined them on this side, Remus knew. Remus himself felt like only a shade of what he had been mere hours ago. Whatever came in the afterlife, it would never compare to living.

This time it was Remus reaching for Sirius’s hand. At the touch, Sirius wove his fingers between Remus’s and squeeze. They did not look at each other. Not then. Not when Voldemort cast the killing curse, and Lily cried out from her place in James’s arms. Not as a faint glow lit around Harry’s body, invisible to the Death Eaters, and they waited for Harry’s soul to leave his body.

But Harry did not join them.

Instead, it pulsed, then brightened, shining with a pure goodness it had not held a moment before. Remus sensed that something significant had just occurred within that limp child’s body. But he could not say what other than to be certain that Harry Potter was not dead.

Narcissa approached the body. Remus’s werewolf ears—or were all ghostly ears so powerful?—caught their exchange.

“Is Draco alive? Is he in the castle?”

Oh, Narcissa, never the blind servant that Voldemort thought her to be. If not for loving Lucius Malfoy, Remus truly thought Narcissa could have gone the way of Andromeda rather than Bellatrix.

And then. The breathed affirmative that confirmed what the marauders knew, that Harry had survived against all reason. “Yes.”

Lily whooped, while tears poured down a grinning James’s cheeks. Harry was alive. He was still in the fight. He was the boy who lived again, and again, and again. Remus wrapped Sirius in a crushing hug and wondered that he could taste tears even in this form. Sirius matched the gusto of the embrace, if not the strength of it, and then Remus was burying his nose in Sirius’s neck, breathing him in, running his lips along that newly young skin—

Remus pulled away as if drenched with ice water. “I—I’m sorry,” he stammered. “Dora—Teddy—I can’t.”

In his periphery, Hagrid scooped Harry up and began to carry the boy as if dead. Hagrid’s wails grounded Remus back to reality.

Remus was married. He had a child who was now an orphan, and a wife whose spirit had already moved on to the next state of being. He should be following her, not reliving his teenage love.

“I—I have to go soon. The Grey Lady said we aren’t ghosts. Well, you certainly aren’t, or I’d’ve expected to see you sometime in the last two years. But we’re supposed to go somewhere, aren’t we? Move on or whatnot?” If he could, Remus would be blushing.

Sirius appraised James and Lily, who watched Hagrid’s retreating form as if they could see Harry through the half-giant’s considerable girth. They seemed to be straining, trying to follow, but Remus sensed that they were bound to the stone now laying among the loamy earth. Just as he was, he realized, though he had been present before the stone’s call.

“You’ll know when it’s time to go,” Sirius said. He didn’t look at Remus again.  
They waited for what felt like hours, the forest lightening around them as dawn slowly rose. Then cheers trickled through the trees, even as far away as they were from the main grounds, and the foursome looked at each other in trepidation.

“Is it—over?” James croaked. “Did he win?”

“Yeah,” said Sirius. He turned a joyful expression upon Remus, only for it to flicker momentarily until he returned his attention to James. “Yeah, I think he really did.”

And Remus knew that he would have to face that look, just as he would have to face Dora’s reaction when she realized they had both abandoned Teddy tonight. What he had told Harry was true. He and Dora had come to this battle to make a better future for their son. But they had not taken the time to think out the consequences, and now—he glanced at Sirius—now the situation was all the more complicated, with the afterlife to contend with.


	2. May 1998

**Earlier that day.**

“Specs has been spotted at Hogwarts. Repeat, Specs has resurfaced around Hogwarts. We’re calling on all of you, loyal listeners. There’s a storm brewing, and it’s going to be a nasty one. Death Eaters have been spotted gathering near the castle. So if you are loyal to the resistance, if you are loyal to the Boy Who Lived or Albus Dumbledore or anything good and bright in this world, listen now. We need your help.”

Remus looked up from his translating work, which he’d been working on for the past few hours with little progress. There were few jobs that would hire a werewolf full time, but this was a decent way to supplement Dora’s auror paycheck and feel like he was doing something for their family. Yet the words swam before him, the Cyrillic symbols a jumble that he could not parse out into sensible structures or meanings. Remus sighed, rubbing his tired eyes and rose.

“Dora?” he called as he made his way to the nursery across the hall. Andromeda insisted that they weren’t being an imposition, turning the guest room into Teddy’s nursery and setting themselves up in Dora’s old room, but Remus couldn’t help but feel as if he was letting them all down. Certainly, it was useful to have more fully qualified wizards in the house, with Andromeda still grieving the elder Ted’s death and the chance of Remus and Dora being called away by the Order at a moment’s notice. And with Remus’s monthly need to disappear for the moon; he refused to be anywhere near his child when he shifted, protective spells be damned.

And Andromeda doted on the baby, providing Remus and Dora a welcome respite when needed. But still. Surely as a husband and father, Remus could be doing more.  
He paused on nursery threshold, looking in quietly. Dora was pacing circles around the room, her hair a deeper red than usual, nearly matching the rosiness of Teddy’s cheeks as she held him and cooed softly. Teddy, barely three months old, gurgled happily as his features shifted from chubby to long to squashy and back again. 

“Dora,” Remus said again, softly. She turned, the smile for Teddy still on her lips, but fading quickly as she took in his expression.

“It’s on, then?”

Remus nodded.

Dora gathered Teddy closer to her and breathed in against the top of his head. While her eyes were closed, Remus approached and ran his finger through Teddy’s curling hair. Today it was the precise shade of his mother’s.

“I think you should stay here to protect Teddy and your mother,” Remus finally said. Dora’s head snapped up, and he hurried to finish. “Andromeda’s an excellent witch, but we need to give Teddy as many defenses as possible. I’m more expendable than you, besides.”  
“You are not,” said Dora hotly. It was an old argument, but one they had yet to resolve.

“Then you’re the better parent to Teddy,” Remus retorted, “and if one of us is going to die today, it should be me.”

Dora’s dark eyes flashed dangerously. “You are not dying today, Remus Lupin. If you do, I will hunt you down and kill you again. You are coming home, and I will be right there with you because there is absolutely no way I am staying home for this fight. Who is the trained auror between us?”

“Who fought in the last war?” he countered.

“Bullocks to the last war! This is the war we’re in now, and the Order needs every hand on deck. We’re leaving Teddy with my mother. We are both going to fight, and if you argue any more I will hex you until you see sense.”

He was never going to win this argument. She was too headstrong, too motivated, too set in her sense of justice. It was his fault, really, for marrying a Hufflepuff. “Fine. But we add an extra layer of defenses before we go.”

She rolled her eyes, her hair softening back to its customary pink as she gave Teddy one last squeeze and passed him over to Remus. Remus cradled the baby, the motion still unfamiliar and awkward to him, and closed his eyes.

“Hushabye, don’t you cry, go to sleep little baby.” Dora’s rich alto washed over him, the muggle lullaby a now-familiar routine. He added his voice to hers, and it scratched roughly against her melody. “When you wake, you shall have all sweetest winged horses.”

They wished Teddy unicorns and fairies and kneazles and puffskiens. Dora had once suggested they add a verse about badgers and griffins, but Remus didn’t want to pressure Teddy to be sorted into a particular House. Better for the child to know that they would love him no matter where the Sorting Hat placed him.

Today, they stretched the song longer than ever before. Remus threw neutrality to the wind and sang about griffins and badgers and eagles and garden snakes. Dora added in a menagerie of owls and described each one. Finally, when Remus felt him throat growing dry, they each cuddled Teddy one last time before tucking him, long asleep, into his crib.


	3. Familiar, Yet Not

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am not Jewish. I checked afterlife beliefs against my Orthodox-raised friend and various internet sources, but please feel free to let me know if anything comes off the wrong way.

The afterlife, Remus soon discovered, held much of the bureaucracy of the mortal world. He had been dead for something close to a week—he thought, it was hard to track time in the bland nothingness of these waiting rooms, court rooms, counseling rooms—and had yet to get a definitive answer on what came next. Oh, the matronly spirits who shuffled him from one place to the next were quick to comfort him, assure him that he wasn’t this wasn’t hell or damnation of indeterminable fate. This was a place of accounting. As Voldemort’s war had resulted in a number of deaths among Jewish wizards, the staff rather had their hands full and Remus was such a dear, he could wait a bit longer, couldn’t he?

The damnation bit was a relief to hear. Judaism had little to say on the souls of werewolves. He’d half expected to spend Gehinnom forever in a cage. Or worse, wolf form.

Finally he found himself led into a sparse courtroom, no larger than his DADA class. The judge was already seated, an iron-haired woman who reminded him of Minerva McGonagall. 

“Remus Lupin,” she said, efficient but not cold. “Thirty-eight. Husband. Father. Teacher. Protector.”

He blinked. She made him sound so noble. Not the monster he so often became.

“Modest,” she added as if reading his thoughts, “and unwilling to take credit even when it is due. Yes, Remus, you do have atonement ahead of you. As does everyone who comes before me. But it is not as extensive as you seem to think. You did everything in your power to control your lycanthropy. It was a condition forced upon you just as another might be saddled with mental illness. The sczhizophrenic decides whether to take their medication. The alcoholic fights the urge to drink. You kept yourself out of harms’ way and made every effort to minimize your condition.”

“But when I was a student—”

“You acted on the impulsiveness of youth. And there will be consequences. But when measure is taken, you have done more good for the world than not. And that will be taken into account.”

“What next, then?” Remus dared to ask. “Do I just wait here until the Messiah comes?”

He thought he caught the faintest smile. “You still have atoning to do. Unfinished business to address. You will remain in this…in-between place, I suppose you would call it. There are others here who will help you acclimate. Then, when the time comes to take the next step, you will know it.”  
Remus felt like he should thank her, or perhaps bow, but he bit his tongue as she made a few notes on a digital tablet. Then a spirit staff waved for him to exit the room, and he stepped out into…

Hogsmeade?

Blinking in the sudden light, bright despite the Scotland clouds, Remus felt a lurch of vertigo. He couldn’t be here. He was dead. And snow dusted the ground, but when he had died it was the end of term. How much time had passed?

“Moony!”

Remus whipped around, but not fast enough to stop James from barreling into him. Remus lost his balance, and they tumbled into a heap on the icy pavement. For the first time since the battle, Remus found himself smiling, laughing even as he tried to untangle himself from James’s gangly limbs.  
“I thought they’d never let you out of holding,” James said, the snow leaving freckles across his dark cheeks. “Lils was about ready to go in there herself. Not that they’d have let her in, being Anglican and all, but it’s the thought that counts.”

“You were waiting for me?” Remus said dumbly.

“Well, of course. It’s only the paperwork that’s separated by faith. All of us afterlife-religions end up in the same place as long as it works with our beliefs. Otherwise, why bother? There’s no point without your friends, yeah?”

“And Tonks? Have you seen her yet?”

James’s expression fell. “Er—not yet, mate. I thought she’d be with you. Jewish solidarity and all.”

Silence fell, and Remus took a moment to look around. It really did look like Hogsmeade, down to familiar shop fronts like Zonkos and Honeydukes. The usual bustle of wizards was missing, though, and Remus found it all rather eerie.

“It’s never quite like it’s meant to be,” James said, reading Remus’ expression. “They don’t want us to fall into thinking we’re alive again. Everything is just a little off. I expect it will be different somehow when we move on to the next stage. Heaven or whatever.”

“Then you’ve been here for…”

“Sixteen years. Yeah. Couldn’t exactly move on while Harry was in danger, could we? And then Padfoot joined us because he hadn’t sorted things out with—Well.” James glanced at him sidelong and let the thought trail away. Remus knew what he’d meant to say.

With forced nonchalance Remus said, “And Pettigrew? Has he shown up? Can’t imagine having all the Marauders back together again. Not the least because they’d need to create and after-after life for what I would do to that rat.”

“Get in line.” James scowled. “I should’ve seen that something was off with him. I should’ve known. But no, it would be brilliant to switch the Secret Keepers, and who would ever suspect our most bumbling friend? Sixteen years is nowhere long enough to be zen about that.”

Remus murmured his agreement. He had imagined the scenario countless times over since that night. He never found peace for his guilt in trusting Peter Pettigrew.  
He was pulled from his thoughts as James threw an arm over his shoulder. “Forget all that for now, though. Voldemort’s dead! For good this time. We got a front row seat to the whole thing, Harry taking down the strongest wizard of all time with expelliarmus of all spells. Lily thinks he should’ve gone for something stronger, a surer thing, but I told her when you’ve got something that works to go with it.”

Remus was about to make a quip to that, knowing full well that James was the master of doing something repeatedly until it finally worked, when he paused. “Prongs. You can watch the living world from here, can’t you? I mean, not like what that stone could do, but just…watch?”

James sobered, and they reached the end of the cobblestone path. James lingered there, as if on a threshold, and Remus instinctively paused as well. “I know what you’re thinking, mate. You want to see your kid, and congratulations on that, by the way. But there are rules. Limitations. We’re supposed to move on from this place, not dream forever of the the living world. But yeah, it’s possible. Under the occasional circumstance.”

“I didn’t get to say goodbye to him. Not properly. You never go into battle thinking you’re really going to die. I know Andromeda will take care of him, but—he’s my   
son. You know?”

“I know.” James looked sadly up at Hogwarts, the castle looming in the distance just as in the living world. “I know.”

They ventured out of Hogsmeade, toward a small cluster of cottages that Remus didn’t recall ever seeing before. James explained that he and Lily’d tried moving into Godric Hollow all those years ago, but the memories were just too painful. They walked the halls knowing that Harry should be with them, knowing that their friends should be around. Caught up in flashbacks to the night the Voldemort tried to destroy it all.

Now, instead, they’d carved out a quiet existence for themselves in the shadow of the familiar and comforting. James confided that it was spooky, oftentimes, and certainly lonely with only other unsettled souls for company. This was like a waystation, he said, and he and Lily never knew when the next train would come to pick them up. They had a few neighbors, but most wizards from the first war found peace ages ago and moved on. Now they mostly encountered newer souls, those who needed a brief landing place before continuing to whatever came next.

Remus took this all in as they walked, and felt a pang as he realized how meager his friends’ lives—as much as he could call it that—had become. Never able to move on because of Harry’s constant danger, never able to truly live.

As James let them through a picket-fence gate, Remus said, “Do you think you’ll be able to do it, take that next train, now that Voldemort’s defeated?”  
James’s fingers tightened on the gate. “We expected so. Then when we didn’t see the pearly gates, we thought maybe we were waiting for you. The Marauders, together again.”

“So Sirius is here too, then.” It wasn’t a question. He’d known it from that moment in the forest.

“He is. Remus—”

But his words were cut short by a cry of delight, and then a full-figured woman nearly bowled Remus over. Remus balanced himself at the last moment, laughing as he pulled back to examine Lily properly. As with James, she looked as young as the last day he had seen her. Her round face shone bright with delight, and she kissed him on the cheek before tugging him inside. Remus didn’t have time to brace himself for what he knew would come next.

Sirius sat at the kitchen table, ramrod straight with a posture drilled into him through childhood. He was nervous too, Remus realized. He was just as uncertain about how they fit together now.

Despite the tension, Remus’s smile was genuine. “It’s good to see you, Padfoot.”

Sirius cracked a grin. “Looking good yourself, Moony.”

Remus studied him as he wasn’t able to do back in the forest. Here, in the soft afternoon light, Sirius’s frame filled out a muggle t-shirt and jeans nicely, no longer the gaunt skeleton Remus had known for the brief time before Sirius’s death. His silken hair brushed his shoulders, left loose now even though Remus could see a rubber band wrapped around Sirius’s wrist. The only indication of the time that had passed were his eyes. Remus saw shadows there, wariness and weariness both, and realized with discomfort that it was a relief. Seeing Sirius, seeing his beauty, Remus had unconsciously feared that he was the only one broken. It was twisted and wrong to wish pain upon Sirius. Sirius had been in Azkaban, for Merlin’s sake. Remus would take that experience away in a heartbeat if he could. But at the same time…Remus was not the only one who had suffered the past two years.

He was a terrible person. A terrible friend. No wonder he was in this in-between place. He didn’t deserve to find peace.

“Remus?”

Remus turned his attention back to Lily. And here, he could be genuine. Decent. Not a monster. “Lily. Harry is—he’s amazing. Really. Every day I taught him, I could see you in him. Sure, he takes after James for getting in trouble—” he rolled his eyes, and James sputtered in protest— “But God, Lily. You sure made a good one.”  
They chatted as Lily put on some tea, mostly about Harry and Remus’s teaching and other neutral topics. They didn’t mention Voldemort. They didn’t talk about the battle. And as he sat there, drinking his tea and bantering back and forth with Lily, sending jabs James’s way, Remus was almost able relax. Almost.

But he never quite could. Because always there, always paying him just a little more attention than the others, was Sirius.

And Remus didn’t know how to bridge the chasm between them.


	4. June 1994

Sirius was alive. He was alive and innocent an free from the horrors of Azkaban.

The knowledge flowed through Remus, buoying him up even as he packed his bags and said farewell to Harry and his friends. Even as he left the greatest home he’d ever known, which had welcomed him back after all these years and provided him safe refuge when he needed it most. Not even the thought of Severus Snape would bring him down, not even the prospect of finding an apartment that would rent to a werewolf and a job that wouldn’t mind him missing three days ever year. Sirius was alive.

And Remus loved him.

He had tried dating in those long, lonely years since Sirius’s apparent betrayal. He’d had a string of one night stands, and a man or two who was interested in something more. But he couldn’t do it. He just couldn’t bring himself to consider anyone for more than a brief escape from his troubles. And for twelve years, he had hated himself for it. Hated himself for still loving the man who had betrayed their friends, who had caused James and Lily and nearly Harry to die. He’d hated them both. But he couldn’t stop loving Sirius.

And now here he was, more or less preparing to run away with Sirius. Sometimes, life was perfectly extraordinary.

***

They found a tiny village along the coast of the Netherlands. It was about as far as either of them could bear to go from wizarding England. Sirius, because he was loathe to be even this far from Harry after missing his entire childhood. Remus, in support of Sirius’s need but also because he needed to stay near the wizarding community in order to get his Wolfsbane supplies.

They settled down on the village outskirts, letting it be known to the folk they encountered that they’d prefer to be left alone when at all possible. The Ministry could not get wind of their presence here. Remus shuddered at the very thought of it.

All that isolation gave them plenty of time to catch up, in more ways than one. The first day, after setting up the wards and alarms, after Remus re-enlarged his book collection and levitated them onto the clapboard shelves, after Sirius dug through the tins of food they’d stocked up on and tasted half a dozen kinds of beans and fruits and soups…after they had arranged everything to their liking on the first floor of the cottage, Sirius glanced toward the stairs and then nervously looked away and played with the cutlery he’d just sorted into a drawer.

“There’s two bedrooms,” Remus said.

“I don’t expect—”

“Me either,” said Sirius quickly. “It’s been a long time. If you’ve found someone else—if you don’t feel the same way anymore—”

“I do though. Feel the same. I never stopped.”

And then they were on each other, all bumps and fumbles and gasps as if they were fifteen again. Sirius ran his hands up and down Remus’s torso as if trying to memorize his planes and and contours. He didn’t hesitate over the new scars, far more extensive than when they were both twenty, instead tracing them and murmuring indistinguishably into Remus’s lips. Remus, in turn, attacked Sirius’s mouth with near aggression, sucking and tasting and nibbling, and stifling sneezes when Sirius’s coarse beard tickled his nose.

After a particularly strong sneeze, Sirius laughed. “We’ve turned into old men.”

“Not so old,” Remus countered, smiling. “A good bath and a trim would take care of things well enough.”

Sirius grinned. “Want to wash my back, Moony?”

“Are you going to turn into Padfoot and shake water everywhere?”

Sirius put on a look of pure innocence. The last time that face had fooled Remus, he was eleven. 

“Don’t you dare.” But Remus was still smiling, and he laced his fingers into Sirius’s and tugged him toward the stairs. “Come on. Let’s see how hospitable this place can be.”


	5. No Peace for the Grieved

The dead didn’t need to sleep, just as they they didn’t need to eat or breathe, but James explained that they still chose to do all out of habit. So when the little clock on the mantle read eleven past, James gathered up the teacups.

“That must be strange, not to do things with magic,” Remus said as James washed the cups by hand. He felt the absence of his wand rather like a missing finger: he was able to get on fine enough with out it, but his actions all felt a little bit off.

“Helps that there’s magic in this place,” said James. “We can’t do spells or the like, but when we need something the house provides it. A new room appeared this morning and I knew it was time to go looking for you.”

“Let me show it to you,” said Lily, rising. “The bed’s all made up and everything.”

“I’ll do it,” said Sirius. He shot to his feet. “I can show him where everything is.”

Remus saw Lily looking between them uncertainly, but before she could say anything James nudged Remus from behind, practically pushing him toward the stairs. Sirius followed. The foyer was much too small for the three of them, and it was with much jostling that James managed to extract himself back to the kitchen.  
Remus ascended the stairs and marveled at the realism of this place. The floorboards creaked with every step he took while his hand ghosted smoothly over the worn wood of the banister. He could easily believe that this was one of the oldest Hogsmeade homes, created by wizards long ago seeking community away from persecution.

At the landing he saw that the hallway extended much longer than ought to be possible for the size and breadth of the cottage. Not unusual for a wizarding home. He wondered if the alteration had been made by the house’s mortal counterparts or purely by the whims of this world.

“Right,” Sirius grunted behind him. It took Remus too long to register that it was directions to turn.

There were two doors on either side of the stairs. To the left, Remus could see through an open thresholds to a modest bathroom, in one, and a neatly made double bed in the other. That would be James and Lily’s room. James had needed to kick his messy habits terribly quickly when he and Lily started talking about living together. That left the two doors on the right, both closed, for Sirius and Remus. Remus hesitated too long.

“Look,” said Sirius from behind him. “Won’t you talk to me, Moony? You’ve barely said two words to me since you got here. I hoped—”

“You probably shouldn’t finish that.” He said it more firmly than he felt.

There was a sigh behind him. “As you like. You’re trying to adjust. But you should know that I’m here when you’re ready to talk about…everything.”

He wouldn’t. He wouldn’t take up Sirius’s offer. Because then Remus would have to face all the feelings that came flooding back the moment he set eyes on Sirius. He would have to deal with the love that he still held for Sirius, that all-consuming love that he had rekindled after his year teaching at Hogwarts, rekindled after Sirius had escaped from Azkaban and they were free to spend every waking moment—even moments when they ought to be asleep, he thought wryly—together. If Remus talked to Sirius, it would be like the last two years had never happened. Like he hadn’t met Tonks. Hadn’t formed a new love, a tentative love, that barely plastered over the aching wound in his soul from the loss of Sirius Black.

He wouldn’t talk to Sirius. So for now, for tonight, Remus nodded once and let himself into the first bedroom he reached.

He should have known better than to risk that guess. As soon as he opened the door, he was flooded by Sirius. His scent. Twelve years in Azkaban did nothing to mute Remus’s memory of Sirius-scent, enhanced by the wolf and by their constant touching in both appropriate situations and not. He had known, that night as he ventured into the Shrieking Shack, that Sirius was there not because of the map or the footprints or the dozen other signs. He had known despite the overpowering reek of body odor and fear because underneath it all was Sirius. His Sirius. Cloves and leaves and the earth after a hard rain. The scent he’d been hit with all over Hogwarts, over and over that year as a teacher, that he tracked through the castle after hours so that the other residents of the school would not see him sniffing the air, running his hand across walls and carpets and suits of armor as he searched fro the trail. Sirius told him later that he’d purposely criss-crossed the castle grounds because he knew it would confuse the wolf. He couldn’t be caught before he’d killed Peter. But Remus was uncomfortably certain that even if Sirius was the true murderer, Remus wouldn’t have been able to bear turning him in once they’d properly found each other.

As Remus recovered from the assault on his senses, he took in the bedroom with more detail. If not for the scent, Remus would not have known it belonged to Sirius. The room was plain as dirt. Yes, there were some touches meant to look homey. The windows had lacey off-white curtains and the duvet looked soft and fluffy. Currently, it was twisted practically into knots with the bedsheets as if Sirius had been thrashing around in his sleep. It was just like him not to make the bed, but Remus wondered at the taste. Nor did Sirius have many personal items in the room. With a pang, Remus remembered their days at Hogwarts when there would always been a load of Honeydukes lying around, and abandoned scraps of half-finished essays, and Sirius’s guitar. God, Remus had loved that guitar.  
He stopped himself at that thought. Best not to think too much about Sirius and that guitar.

A touch on his shoulder made him jump. Sirius winced apologetically. “I should’ve said. You’re the one across the hall.” He motioned unnecessarily.

“Yeah,” Remus said. “Yeah.”

There were so many things he wanted to say. Here was Sirius, his Sirius, standing before him again, when Remus had thought he’d been lost forever. But a button-nosed face flashed through his mind and he forced himself to move past Sirius and close himself into his own room.

The room possessed its own bathroom suite, complete with tub and shower. Remus doused himself with icy water for a long, long time.

 

***

 

The next morning, Remus knew with certainty that he had to find Tonks. The Grey Lady had said that Dora would not have stayed at Hogwarts, the real Hogwarts, after her death. But surely if Remus had unfinished business, Dora might too. And if she didn’t, if she wasn’t here, then Remus had to get on with the business of moving on to the next phase…whatever that was.

He rose early. Or at least, he thought it was early; his senses were all off-kilter by the flexible rules of this world. He walked down to the kitchen with a confidence born only of living with James and Sirius for eight-odd years and was pleased to see that he had estimated correctly. Lily sat at the kitchen table, alone, dipping a biscuit idly into her milk as she penciled in letters on a newsprint crossword puzzle.

“Can’t imagine the paper has much to say, ever,” he said, indicating the news before her. 

Lily smiled but did not look up, chewing on her quill in concentration. “It’s mostly tidbits about the mortal world. Nice things, mostly, though toward the worst of the second war even this place couldn’t find a bright side anymore. Pretty sure it’s designed to show us that the world is continuing to turn and people are living happily without us.”

“Morbid.”

She shot him a smile. “Not really. We’re not supposed to stay here all that long. It’s all about finishing unfinished business, isn’t it, so they try to help things along.”

“They? Is there someone in charge?”

Lily shrugged. “We can’t know for certain. But if this place is as much like the Ministry as it seemed at intake, I’d bet someone in those offices picks out just the news to cheer up us poor, pining souls.”

For the first time in what felt like ages, a genuine smile spread over Remus’s face. Logical Lily, always calculating and cutting through bullshit. Impulsively he asked, “Would you be up for a bit of roaming with me? You’ve probably explored this place from end to end by now, but…”

She smiled warmly. “I’d be happy to.”

They set out without waking the others, and Remus picked up the thread of conversation. “All this about unfinished business. I realize Harry was yours. But how do you know when it’s complete? When it’s time to move on?”

Lily shrugged. “James and I, we’ve seen a lot of souls come through here. There’s only a handful of others who’ve been around longer than we have, and their situations are…complicated enough…that they may remain in limbo for a long time to come. It’s kinder to them than becoming a ghost since it’s not a final sentence, but not by much. But of everyone else who’s here, it varies. Maybe a mother needs to see that her child is taken into a safe home after she passes. Maybe a husband looks to see that his partner can find love again. And then there’s the classic stories of hidden fortunes or vindication or whatnot, but we don’t usually get along with those folks.” She rolled her eyes.

“So you’re here because of Harry.”

“Well, yes, that’s the main one. We could hardly let ourselves move on while he was in danger every other moment. Now, with everything settling back in…I don’t know.”

“The war is truly over, then? No Death Eaters coming out of the woodworks to try and be the next Lord Voldemort?”

“It’s quiet for now. I don’t thin Harry has much of anything to worry about with mortal enemies, at least. It sounds like he’s skipping his last year of Hogwarts and going right into Auror training.”

“Sounds like something he would do, try to work his way out of his last year of classes,” said Remus with a grin. “And I expect Ron is right along with him.”

“Just like his father,” Lily said fondly.

Their conversation meandered then, into memories of their own school adventures and stories Remus could relay of Harry’s. Lily and James really were limited to the bare bones of updates, though Lily said they were more detailed when Harry was a child. It was appropriate, Remus mused. No teenager wanted their parents to know every aspect of their life.

Their meandering led them out of the tiny Hogsmeade settlement and soon enough into the mountainous region beyond. Remus remembered the months that Sirius had lived out here, surviving on rats and the furtive charity of those who knew of his innocence. Remus himself had spent much of his time in that cave, not being able to find another job after being outed as a werewolf before all the children of wizarding England. Now, Remus gently steered their route in another direction. He was very resolutely Not Thinking of Sirius Black on this walk. He was Enjoying Time With Lily. So at the next fork he took the path that would lead them over towards Hogwarts, and focused on the castles silhouette rather than the memories of that too-short reunion.

As they walked, their conversation shifted. While the night before had been all about Harry, now Lily asked Remus questions about his own life. How were the moons now that he had Wolfsbane potion? Had he managed any mischief at all while teaching at Hogwarts? (They both had a laugh over his first day with the third years. Peeves was a continual thorn in Lily’s side when she was Head Girl.) And then, as if she had been leading up to it—or avoiding it—she finally said, “So tell me about Tonks.”

Remus stuttered in his step before finding his pacing. “I—”

Now she stopped him fully and stared him down. “Remus Lupin, you went and got married and had a child. I know it’s awkward with Sirius around here. And you need to talk to him properly, because that’s not a conversation I should be having with you except to make you sit down and just get it done with. But dragon pox it, Remus, let me be excited about something for you! I am only friends with you for the duration of this walk. No loyalties to Sirius, just for the next few hours. So lay it all out. Tell me all about her.”

Something heavy lifted inside him, and relief buoyed through Remus like the release of an anchor. He said haltingly, “Well, there’s Teddy.”

“The baby!” Lily squealed, clapping her hands. “The paper gave us a picture when he was born. Squishy little things, newborns, aren’t they? And a metamorphmagus, too? Oh, I wish I could’ve met him properly.”

“You wouldn’t think he was so cute at two in the morning when he decided to morph himself some gnome skin. Dora was all about co-sleeping when he was first born, but we had to stop that right off the bat. He just shifted forms so much, neither of us could get any sleep.”

“And you got so much more sleep with an infant in a crib?” Lily teased. “Please say you two bought a magical mobile. Harry’s had Quidditch hangings, of course, but for Teddy…a constellation mobile, I think. With a moon that changes phases.”

Remus groaned. “So that he can start tracking the months from infancy? Not my idea of comforting.”

“No, silly. So he knows about an important part of his father’s life. You hated the moon, but he wouldn’t have to. Besides. He would get to learn all about the sky.”

There it was. Remus waited a beat for Lily to catch her mistake, and when she did she winced. “Right. Dog star. As if the puns weren’t enough of a pain.”

“You’re fine,” he murmured, for his attention had been caught elsewhere. In the distance, he spotted a dark figure that appeared to be hurtling like hell in their direction. He squinted. It raced in a blur, loping with a familiar gait.

“Padfoot?”

His werewolf-sharp eyes took in the details far more clearly than Lily’s human ones would be able to. The dog was almost stumbling over himself in his haste, the whites of his eyes showing as if chased by an invisible enemy, his tail plumed and upright like a commander’s flag. Immediately, Remus was on alert, moving himself in front of Lily in a habit born more of his time in the Order being sent to defend people, and not from any doubts in her own competency. 

The dog barked as he grew closer, and Lily broke out into a run, Remus close on her heels. When they reached Padfoot, or he reached them, Remus didn’t even know, the dog skidded to a stop and immediately shifted to human—a trick they’d had to train into him after too many frustrated dealings with an overexcited mutt. Sirius wheezed as he tried to catch his breath.

“At Hogwarts—the students from the battle—and Tonks is with them!”

 


	6. July 1997

They’d never intended to get pregnant.

Not that anyone planned to have a baby during a war. But even if they’d lived in a peaceful time, even if Remus hadn’t had his hangups about lycanthropy, Tonks had never particularly considered having children.

It wasn’t that she disliked them. Molly’s brood was great, especially the twins, but they were all older. Properly formed and harder to break. And when Tonks was around younger children, her metamorphmagus abilities made her a natural at entertaining them. But a baby of her own? A squishy, squirmy little human being who needed the utmost care an attention? The thought hardly appealed to her.

So when she and Remus started getting serious, she went to her healer for a tonic that she could take every morning. She and Remus even talked about it. He seemed relieved when she brought it up first, actually, and offered to pay for the tonic with what meager money he could scrape together.  
She’d kissed his nose and gently, kindly, waved away his money. Her benefits with the Ministry included low-cost contraception. She could afford it. Remus, on the other hand, felt the weight or loss of every knut in his pocket.

Yet here she was, Tonks thought a bit hysterically. She sat on the tiled bathroom floor, bile floating in the toilet from yet another night of retching her guts up. This was the third time this week, and she was late to boot.

A knock came from the locked door. “Dora? What do you need?”

She needed a time turner. Or some better habits. The tonic must be taken at the same time every day, no missed doses, or its effectiveness plummeted. Tonks…was not the most punctual person. She’d missed a dose here, fudged the time there. But Remus had been away doing work for the Order at the time, and she figured her body would right itself out if she kept up with the potion from then on out.

Clearly, she hadn’t given things enough time to sort themselves out.

Remus knocked again, and Tonks stifled a moan. How could she be so stupid? She hadn’t even mentioned the missed doses to Remus, knowing he would worry. She’d thought the concern was unnecessary. And now…now…

The nausea rose again, and Tonks lurched for the toilet bowl.

“Dora,” said Remus more insistently. “I’m coming in.”

“No,” she tried to say, but it only came out as a moan.

She heard a crack as he twisted the doorknob hard enough to break the lock, and then he was crouching down beside her, assessing her with worried eyes. “Is it the flu? Should we go to St. Mungo’s?”

“Not the flu.” She leaned over the bowl and heaved, though her stomach was empty and nothing came out.

“Then what—oh.”

“Yeah.”

“How long?”

“Last month, I guess? You’ve been away. I didn’t want to worry you.”

Remus sat back on his heels, a look of abject horror on his face. “Worry me? So you’ve been dealing with this on your own? Dora, I think you have the right to worry  
me if you’re—if you’re—”

“Pregnant,” she said. “And I didn’t hide it all that long. Only figured it out for sure a few days ago. While you were on that mission. Haven’t told anybody yet, either.”

“Not even your parents? But why? Unless…you don’t want to keep it?”

She snuck a look at him from the corner of her eye. “We haven’t really talked about kids before. Or the future, well, pretty much at all. I didn’t know how you would feel.”

Gently, Remus pulled her to him. As he wrapped his arms around her, blanketing her in his warmth and strength, she let out a breath she felt like she’d been holding since she realized her condition. He didn’t hate her. Wasn’t repulsed by her and her irresponsibility. Even if he didn’t want this baby, even if they decided this wasn’t the time to bring a living, squalling, needy creature into the world…he still loved her. It would be okay.

She realized Remus’s shirt was wet where she buried her face against it, and then realized that she was crying. She sniffled and grabbed a wad of toilet paper to mop herself up. Remus stroked her back in comforting circles as she tried to pull herself together.

When she felt like she could speak without sobbing, she said, “So. What should we do?”

“I’ll respect whatever you decide,” he said. “If you want to have a—a baby, I will do my best to be a good father to it. If it doesn’t feel like the right time, or you don’t want one…I know how it feels for your body to do things, to change, against your will. If that’s not comfortable for you…”

“My body changes all the time.” Tonks hiccuped, then shared a ghost of a grin. She shifted her eyes to a bright violet, and then back to their natural hazel, making her point without hitting that point of change that often disconcerted people. “It’s the after part that scares me.”

“I’ll be here. Whatever you need, I’ll be here for you. For…for the child.”

“Our child,” she said. She touched Remus’s cheek, lightly, letting her fingers brush over the rough stubble.

“Our child,” he repeated roughly.

He kissed her then, sweetly, gently. He was always so careful, her Remus, always trying to hide the wolf within him. She never saw him as a beast, though. Just a fierce, loyal, protective man who would put himself in harm’s way before allowing anything to happen to the people in his care. He would make an amazing father, she realized. And even if this wasn’t the best time for it, goodness knew people had made families in the middle of a war before. Remus’s own school friends had done it, and though their story had ended in tragedy Tonks swore to herself that she would not let history repeat itself with this child.

Their kiss grew deeper, more passionate. It was still slow, but there was a new layer to it. Remus tugged Tonks up to her feet without breaking the kiss and they made their way back to the bedroom. Tonks let herself be lost in him. This amazing man who loved her of all people.

When their lovemaking had ended and Tonks lay curled in the curve of Remus’s body, his arms wrapped around her protectively, she sighed in contentment. She still couldn’t say this pregnancy was a good thing. She was an auror and a fighter and their side couldn’t afford to lose a single person from the ranks. But it was rather remarkable that the two of them, broken as they were, could create a perfect little human being together.

Tonks had nearly drifted off to sleep when Remus shifted beside her. She blinked sleepily up at him, at his serious expression.

“Nymphadora Tonks. Will you marry me?”

She kissed the corner of his mouth in reply.


	7. Death's Refugees

Sirius couldn’t sleep. He tossed and turned all night long, in the damned bedroom he’d been marking time in since he fell through that veil two years ago. When the clock on the wall read four a.m., he gave up and pulled on a pair of ratty sweats. Then he slipped out of the cottage, shifted to Padfoot, and ran. There were plenty of times, both before his death and after it, that Sirius honestly considered shifting to dog form full time. Padfoot didn’t worry about things the same way a human could. He was still aware—of the war, of his safety, of the ache when Remus was gone—but it didn’t bite at his soul in the same manner. Sirius needed that relief right now.

Seeing Remus, really seeing him, not just remembering or catching what glimpses the fates would allow him…Sirius had dreamed of that moment for two years. He thought it would be much longer, of course. Wanted it to be decades before he could see Remus properly again. But then there was the battle and the dying and… …and there was Remus.

Except he had changed. Being with Tonks had changed Remus in a way that twelve years of social isolation had not. For the better, absolutely, and Sirius was grateful for Tonk’s lightheartedness. For the gentle pressure she put on Remus to shed a few of his insecurities, or at least put them on hold for a while, and get on with living again. Remus had needed Tonks these past two years.

Sirius had just thought…well, he thought he’d have more time to get used to Remus being happy with someone else. Being in love with someone else. Before Sirius had to face him. Sirius was happy for Remus’s happiness. But this—he just didn’t know how to process it all.

So he turned into Padfoot, and he ran. He bounded through the icy air, the bite of wind reminding him that it was not summer, it was not Scotland, and he did not walk the world of the living. He ran toward Hogwarts, because Padfoot remembered it as safe happy warm good. He weaved through the trees in the deserted Forest, and Padfoot yipped with joy at the memories held there. He ran circles around the lake to burn off his nervous energy and ignored how strange it felt without the intermittent presence of the giant squid. He did not tire in this in-between limbo. His lungs did not ache and his paws did not tire. He ran until dawn began to break and all that was left in his head was fantasies of teasing squirrels and filching food from the kitchens.

That last thought led him to the great castle doors. Padfoot was content as he nudged through the doors, conveniently left just open enough for a mutt to wiggle through. He lifted his nose and sampled the air and then, not smelling much of anything but remembering that bacon and roasted meat often wafted from that way, he followed his instincts into the Great Hall.

The man would have been unsettled by the long, deserted tables. By the empty hourglasses and the gray mist obscuring the magical ceiling. But the dog had no such qualms. Padfoot snuffled his way to the teacher’s table and jumped atop it with a doggy grin. He didn’t know exactly why, but he took great joy in standing where he certainly wasn’t allowed.

A cry of surprise echoed through the room. Sirius whirled toward its source, the entryway, to see a diminutive figure standing there. Padfoot cocked his head. Child, his mind told him. Fun play grab hold play. His ears pricked forward. Padfoot loved to play. He’d just make sure he didn’t get to close. He hopped off the table and bounded toward the child, yipping excitedly.

The child backed away hurriedly, stumbling over its own feet and reaching into a pocket as if reflexively. When no results were yielded, the child turned tail and ran away.

Padfoot whined. Playing was no fun when scared. Why was the child scared? Tail drooping, Padfoot slunk in the direction the child had run. Padfoot wanted friends to play with. He wanted Prongs and Moony. Especially Moony, who was great fun.

He made it halfway up the stairs when his instincts prickled. Looking up, he found the child had returned, joined by several others. Many were also children, who gasped and drew back at the sight of him. Only two did not, and Sirius filled in the blanks that Padfoot could not identify: the young man, whose light hair would be red under a human’s eye, was Fred Weasley. And the other, a wan and drawn-looking woman, was called Tonks.

“Sirius?” said Tonks. “Is that you?”

Padfoot shook himself out and whined in distress. Tonks wanted him to be Sirius now. But the thought of talking to her made Padfoot wary, for some reason having to do with Moony.

It was Fred who approached. He inched forward with his hand held out as if actually facing a skittish animal. Padfoot whined again. Fred said his name, Sirius, and Padfoot whuffed out a sigh. Fine. He would be Sirius. If he had to.

As Fred reached out to pat his head, Sirius shifted to human form. It left Fred grabbing for empty air, and Sirius chuckling as Fred lurched off-balance to catch himself.

“Oi!” Fred cried. There were several gasps from the children—teenagers, Sirius noted now, mostly sixth- and seventh-years by the looks of it—as they took Sirius in. Fred turned on them. “Hey, you lot. He’s not the Grim, and he’s not a murderer. Not that you could be murdered here, you know. You’re looking at one of the first members of the Order of the Phoenix, all right?”

Murmurs and nods came as their replies.

When Sirius found his voice, he asked, rather stupidly, “What are you all doing here?”

The boy who had found Sirius in the first place, a sixth year who Sirius vaguely recalled taking photographs of Harry all the time in school, straightened a little. “Well, we’re dead, aren’t we?”

Sirius made an impatient sound. “Yes, but why are you all at Hogwarts?” 

“It’s because they—we—died here. ”

Sirius looked sharply at Tonks. Padfoot’s initial assessment had been accurate. Tonks looked exhausted. Her usually bright hair was a dull, matted brown. She lacked the colorful makeup Sirius remembered her wearing, and the bright clothing as well. She looked washed out. Like a paint brush that had been muddied by mixing and diluting the colors.

“Cousin,” he said, pushing back the very Padfootesque thought that ran through him. Moony is yours now. Not mine. He can’t be mine.

“Sirius,” she said again. And something flashed in her eyes that almost looked like relief. But before Sirius could consider it further, she said, “You’re here. Wherever this is, I mean. Some kind of limbo, right? At least, that’s what I got, after talking to those creepy gatekeepers. It was, I don’t know, it was a while ago, I can’t really tell how times works out here, you know?”

“Have you been here the whole time?” Sirius asked, cutting her off her nervous chatter. “At Hogwarts, I mean?”

“Well, yeah. Like I said. I expect you got kicked out at the Ministry then, didn’t you? How’d you find us?”

“I wasn’t. At the Ministry, that is. Hogsmeade is just down the way, I’ve been staying with—well, you don’t actually know them, but I’ve been with Harry’s parents. James and Lily Potter. In the village.”

There were murmurs of awe. Harry may be the Boy Who Lived, but James and Lily were plenty famous themselves. More with the older generation, Sirius had thought, but he’d been in Azkaban long enough, and then on the run, that he didn’t have a perfect grasp on the wartime legends.

“They’re here, too?” said Tonks in surprise. “It must’ve been—blimey—”

“A long time to wait,” Sirius finished firmly. He glanced meaningfully over her shoulder at the teenagers. No need to scare them into thinking they’d be trapped here forever. Tonks seemed to pick up on his message, and Sirius felt vaguely surprised. His cousin had matured in the brief time he’d been dead. By necessity, he was certain, fighting a war and having a kid and all.

She took Moonyyyyyyy! howled Padfoot. Sirius shoved the thought away. Instead he said, “What have you all been doing since you got here?”

Fred brightened, and in his grin Sirius could see the soul of a Marauder. “We can show you.”

As Fred led them through the castle, he pointed at the others and listed off names. Colin Creevy was the boy who had found Padfoot in the Great Hall. Lavender Brown, she was in Harry’s year, Sirius probably wouldn’t know her. (Sirius did. By reputation, at least. If he hadn’t been so bored these past two years, he might feel guilty for taking entertainment from the love lives of Harry’s friends.) On and on Fred went, naming the dozen kids who were with them now and going on to explain that a good handful more were still in the Hufflepuff common room, the only one of the Houses to admit them all despite their usual affiliations.

“No point in being separated by House, you know?” said Fred as they entered a basement corridor. Sirius strode forward automatically, reaching for the pear portrait that would lead into the kitchens, then stopped himself.

“Er, sorry. Habit.”

“Wish I’d known that one sooner,” Fred said offhandedly. “Would’ve made House parties way better. If George ‘n’ me wanted to celebrate at all, we had to take the secret passage to…” He trailed off, looking between Sirius and Tonks as if expecting to be told off.

“To Honeydukes?” Sirius finished. “Yeah, and then there’s the whole issue of paying for it all. James and I always tried to leave some sickles behind. Common decency and all that.”

“You know about the passage?” Fred said. Now his eyes shone with much the same awe as the younger students.

Sirius scoffed. “I mapped the passages. That one and all the others.”

“All right, you pranksters,” Tonks interrupted, though fondly. “How about we reassure these kids that they aren’t going to be haunted by the Grim for the rest of their existence?”

“I never said he was a Grim,” said Colin Creevy hotly.

Lavender rolled her eyes. “No, you just said there was a big black dog prowling around castle and he looked ‘awfully scary.’ And then you nearly wet yourself.”  
A few of the kids giggled, and Colin blushed madly. Sirius frowned.

“Better safe then sorry around here. He’s right to be cautious. You all would do well to learn from him. I’ve been here long enough to say that this place isn’t always safe. There’s no Death Eaters or Voldemort, but there are other troubles in the lands of the dead.” There. Not strictly lying, but stretching the truth just enough to put some respect in them. Sirius found himself wondering how the Hogwarts professors could stand it, dealing with such high-strung personalities all day.  
Because you were so mellow and easy-going. Mentally, Sirius rolled his eyes. 

They clambered into the common room, Sirius taking a moment to appreciate his young, lithe body. Even after two years here, he still couldn’t quite believe his return to youth. Tonks, on the other hand, looked notably older than when he had seen her last. Sirius made a note to pull her away from the students at some point to check in privately. For now, though, there was a flurry of introductions and “No, he’s not a murderer, d’you think after we died we’d be sent to the same place as a murderer?” Sirius took the teenagers in stride, laughing with the confident ones, subduing himself for the quieter ones. These must all be students who fought in the Battle of Hogwarts, he thought. There were far too many of them. Almost all sixteen and seventeen year olds, though he spotted one or two who seemed younger even than that. Were they foolish or brave? Sirius couldn’t say, especially since he would have done the same at their age.

The excitement wore on for some time. Sirius answered the kids’ questions with patience and cheer where he could, and gave them the gravity of a serious answer when they asked about afterlife matters. 

“No, we aren’t ghosts,” he told one Ravenclaw. “We’d be able to interact with the living, then. And see them. This is some other plane of existence.”  
“But Racorinor’s fourth law of dimensional theory states…”

“Trust me,” he said firmly. “You would know if you were a ghost. It takes a fair bit of magic and forethought, so it’s right difficult to do it accidentally.”

“But—”

Tonks stuck herself between the two of them. “Tracy. The girls are trying to rearrange the sleeping areas again. You know I’m useless at all of that. Would you go help them sort it all out?”

The Ravenclaw sighed. “You should have known better than to let the Hufflepuffs do it. Fine.”

Tonks jabbed Tracy in the side. “Those Hufflepuffs know their way around this dorm, which is a lot more than you can say for yourself right now. And they have people skills. They wouldn’t put Ana in the same dorm as Diti, unlike somebody I know.”

“Being exes should not have to factor into sleeping arrangements!”

“Just go, please,” said Tonks.

As Tracy left muttering, Sirius said, “Weren’t you a Hufflepuff?”

“Tried and true. We protect our own, you know? Tracy’s just high strung. She’ll mellow out eventually.”

“Hufflepuffs are also infinitely forgiving,” Sirius observed.

Tonks grinned. Then she grew more serious and lowered her voice. “I haven’t wanted to freak the kids out, but…do you know why we’re here? For a while I thought this was all casualties, but now you’re here. Do you have any way to check in on the living world? Is Remus okay?”

Sirius faltered. “You don’t know.”

“What?” When he didn’t answer, Tonks grew—quite literally-until she towered several inches over him. “Sirius. What happened.”  
Scuffing a toe on the ground, Sirius wished he could shift to Padfoot. “He’s here. Staying with me and the Potters. He’s dead.”

Tonk’s cheeks drained of what little color they still possessed. She said, “Death Eaters?”

“The battle,” Sirius confirmed. “We only just found him here last night. Don’t know why he was held longer than you were, but yeah. He’s here.”

“That means Teddy. Teddy’s all alone.”

“I’m sorry, Tonks.” He put a hand on her shoulder in comfort, but she tugged away. Sirius’s arm fell limply at his side.

He’d have to give her the time to process it on her own terms. Sirius had learned that from James and Lily, when he’d arrived here and they wanted to know all about Harry and their friends in the living world. They’d pressed so hard for details, and meanwhile Sirius was just tying to understand the full extent of what he’d lost. Harry. Remus… so Sirius would let Tonks be, and give her a chance to adjust. He could do that for his cousin and for his soul mate’s wife.

He let himself enjoy the chatter and energy of the many students camped out here. Gryffindors, Hufflepuffs, Ravenclaws, and even the rare Slytherin mingled as if they had forgotten the divides that had separated them for five plus years.

All except for one.

Sirius made his way casually over to the squishy armchair in the corner, where a rail-thin girl sat with her hands clasped tightly around her knees. She wore Ravenclaw blue and gazed mutely into the distance.

“Hey there,” Sirius said, gently, so as to announce his presence. She turned large eyes on him and blinked. “Mind if I sit?”

At her barest nod, he crouched back on his heels and balanced there, a full head lower than her and still a good distance away. He just stayed there, waiting, neither paying the girl particular attention nor ignoring her entirely.

Still, patience was not in his nature. So it was a relief when she finally said, “You’re Sirius Black. Tonks says you’re not a murderer.”

“That’s right,” he allowed.

“I’m a murderer. My friends and I, we all took down one of the Death Eaters together. Created an illusion so she couldn’t track where we were, then came in and hit her from all sides. None of us used a killing curse. But she died. So I killed her.”

“Yeah,” Sirius said. “I suppose you could think of it that way, couldn’t you? Or, you could think that you stopped her from killing someone else. That’s what I do. It’s the only way I can do it.”

“You just said—”

“I’m not a murderer. But I am a killer. There’s a difference. I’ve only killed in defense. The Death Eaters, they do it with hatred. Cold blooded. There’s a difference.”  
He nodded sagely; and then, thankfully, before he could say anything that revealed how unsagely he actually felt, explosions sounded on the other side of the common room.

There were screams, and Sirius whirled around, reaching for a wand that wasn’t there, but then the screams quickly dissolved into giggles filled with more than a little hysteria. Across the room, Fred was rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. Soot covered his face.

“Sorry! Sorry. Wanted to see if dungbombs still worked in the afterlife. You just found the answer! Sorry…”

Sirius laughed then, a hearty laugh that was perhaps too big for the small surprise but led to more giggles from the onlookers. Then a handful of girls were racing out of a rounded passageway, to the dorms Sirius assumed, and the whole thing had to be explained again. By the time everyone had sorted themselves out, Sirius was appreciating the bit of color Fred Weasley was bringing to the afterlife. There had been a distinct lack of pranking among Sirius and James since they’d been reunited, mostly because one could only do so much with three people, no magic, and limited supplies.

So he was feeling lighthearted when he turned back to the Ravenclaw girl, meaning to ask her name, and found her collapsed in a heap on the floor.


	8. January 1974

“I propose a new rule for the Marauder’s Code.”

Remus looked up from his studies as James plopped himself down on Peter’s bed, fished under the pillow, and came up with a wrapped pastry left over from dinner. James examined the pastry critically, sniffed it, and then took a bite.

“And what rule is that?” said Sirius. He lay sprawled on his bed, managing to take up every spare inch of it while still looking casually elegant. At thirteen, Remus was starting to take note of these things. He wasn’t quite certain that he ought to be.

James straightened importantly. “We shall hereby forbid specifically targeted pranking upon those individuals deemed in a vulnerable mental or emotional state.”

“And what the hell is that supposed to mean?” Sirius said.

“It means,” said Remus in surprise, “that we shouldn’t mess with students who are already being bullied.”

Peter, who had long since given up on his pastries, made a face. “I thought the Code said anybody and everybody is fair game.”

“That was for people like Snivellus, or the professors,” James said with a wave of his hand. “It was so some people wouldn’t chicken out just because we might get in trouble because of who we’re pranking. This is different. The Marauders are pranksters, but we’re also noble. Principled.”

“Principled like stealing their friend’s food?” Peter grumbled.

“He has a point,” said Remus, searching for a spare bit of parchment in his book so he wouldn’t lose his place. “I think we should add a caveat, though. We can and should do things that are meant to cheer the person up. Positive pranking.”

Sirius perked up. “Like sending someone an owl post with a cheering charm inside?”

“Exactly. We don’t need to laugh at them. We just need them to laugh. Period.”

“So who do you have in mind, James?” Sirius sat up, his shirt riding up a bit and giving Remus a glimpse of his toned torso. Reddening, Remus busied himself flipping through the pages of his book, then realized to his horror that he hadn’t actually bookmarked his page. His paper shuffling grew more urgent and he nearly missed James’s response.

“Dirk Cresswell.”

“Who?” said Sirius.

“He’s muggleborn,” said Remus distractedly. “Hufflepuff. Always muttering in Gobbledegook.”

“The goblin kid!” Sirius lit up in recognition. “Oh, but I was thinking about finding a charm that keeps you from speaking your native language. So he’d only be able to talk in goblin, wouldn’t he?”

“That’s a terrible idea,” Remus said sharply. “Can you imagine how scared he’d probably be? And he’s already the butt of more than his share of cruel jokes.”

“That’s my point,” said James. “Pranks are no fun if they prey on the innocent. Much better to be revenge, or someone who can take a joke.”

“Like McGonagall?” Remus suggested.

“Exactly. She can handle herself. She’s a challenge to prank without getting caught. People like Cresswell, there’s no point. We’re just being arses when we target them.”

Rolling off the bed, Sirius ambled over to Remus’s desk and reached across him to grab a spare bit of parchment. He plucked a quill from behind Remus’s ear, which he’d forgotten he’d put there, and Remus tried not to shiver at the zing that ran through him. “All right, then. We’re going to need a list, or I’ll never remember who’s off limits. Dirk Cresswell. Who else?”

They brainstormed a half dozen students for the list, kids who were picked on or just so terribly awkward that it didn’t feel sporting to target them. Then Sirius suggested they make a list of people they should target for being the cause of all the bullying in the first place. That list was notably longer, and included a disproportionate number of Slytherins and professors. When they’d finally finished, it was well past midnight and Remus knew he wouldn’t be able to complete his reading by class the next morning. He couldn’t make himself mind too terribly. If he hadn’t become a Marauder, hadn’t made friends with these three, he’d probably be on that Off-Limits list. Either for the visible signs of his condition or his overly studious nature. So he warmed at the idea his friends, whom he sometimes feared were a little too vindictive for their own good, had a solid sense of just returns.

And if they happened to raise hell for the bullies who started all the trouble? Well. Remus may not be the one to suggest the prank, but he was perfectly willing to help in its execution.


	9. The Waypoint

As Remus and Lily ran with Sirius, Remus listened to his story with growing shock. Of course students had died in the battle. Of course they would need somewhere to go. But it had never begun to occur to him that they’d end up here, in the same little pocket of afterlife that the Marauders had found themselves in.

After the Ravenclaw girl collapsed, Sirius and the others had tried to revive her to no avail. So, though the rational part of Sirius’s mind knew that this wasn’t something mortal knowledge could fix, he headed straight for the best healer he knew. Lily.

Remus, meanwhile, was running through everything he knew about the afterlife in search of a solution. And coming up blank. He knew about ghosts. He knew about poltergeists. He knew about hauntings, but mostly in the context of how to banish them from the mortal realm. But an unexplained illness in limbo? Remus hadn’t the foggiest idea of what to do with that, and he found himself longing for the comforting surety of the Hogwarts library. Or a wand. He definitely wouldn’t mind a wand right now.

And then they were entering the castle, and Sirius was leading them to the Hufflepuff common room, which Remus had only learned the location of after becoming a teacher. Remus felt something lurch inside him as he spotted Dora, but all of their attentions were turned to the Ravenclaw girl. Remus recognized her from his time teaching. Farrah Al-Amari. A fourth year, now, and far too young to be fighting in a war.

Lily knelt beside the girl, her hands fluttering uselessly over her prone figure. Remus caught her reaching for a pulse, checking the breath, and then catching herself when she remembered that they were all dead here. 

“What’s wrong with her?” Dora said nervously. Remus’s heart ached at the mutedness of her appearance. She never did bother to hide her emotions much, and Remus found himself wondering if Teddy would be the same. But no. He couldn’t think of that now. These children knew him to be a teacher, and so he would have to force himself to keep it together and be a source of strength for them. Even when he felt none left in himself.

Lily made a frustrated noise. “I don’t know. Her energy almost feels like she’s ready to move on. But she won’t let go.”

Remus surveyed the gathered students and raised his voice, using what Sirius would probably call his professor tone. “Who here knows Farrah well?”

The students shuffled uncomfortably. Silence stretched for a long moment, then another…

“She kept to herself, mostly,” said Tracy. “She was always working on some kind of theorem or another, but she didn’t like to ask anybody for help.”

“Tell me about her family, her interests, anything you know,” Lily commanded. Tracy’s eyes widened, but then her encyclopedic nature kicked in and she began listing facts as if in a recitation.

As Tracy spoke, Remus edged himself to the side until he stood shoulder to shoulder with Dora. Still keeping his eyes on Farrah, he brushed his scarred hand against her own. Dora’ fingers curled against Remus’s lightly, and then she threaded their fingers together. Remus squeezed.

As they held hands and watched Lily work, Remus felt a sharp ache shoot through his chest. His skin itched like when the wolf fought to come out, a prickling all over that left him restless and sharp. This was never the plan. Creating a child together, then leaving it alone in the world—what kind of parents were they? Remus knew they shouldn’t have both gone to Hogwarts that night. It didn’t make sense, at least one of them should have stayed behind. He had acquiesced this time, but he should have held firm, should have stuck to the arguments all the other times that they were called out to help the Order together—

 

***

 

_“Dammit, Remus, I’m not going to stay hidden away like some breakable…girl!” The cabinet doors rattled as Dora slammed them shut. She lobbed a jar of baby food at Remus’s head, and he caught it with hardly a blink. As she’d known he would._

_“I’m just saying. We need to be practical. Imagine if something happened and Teddy needed us.”_

_“My mother is perfectly capable of watching an infant.”_

_“You know I don’t mean babysitting, Dora. If one of us were injured. Or worse, dead. There’s always a chance when we go out for the Order.”_

_“There’s always a chance when we go out to the store. Or to get the post. Voldemort is here. He and his followers will find us here eventually if we don’t fight. He’s too strong already.”_

_“Fine. Fine. I’ll go see what Kingsley wants. But you should…” He couldn’t be the one to stay behind. He was scarred. Cursed. Their son should have a better parent to raise him._

_“Don’t you pull the werewolf card on me. You. Are. Not. A monster, and I refuse to let you think it would be okay if you died. I am a fully qualified Auror. I’m going.”_

 

***

 

It was a werewolf thing. And a Remus thing. As he remembered the angry words between them, Remus cringed at his own arrogance. It was all of a string of fights between the two of them, beginning almost as soon as they discovered Dora was pregnant. Remus wanted to protect her and the baby. Dora wanted her freedom. They’d barely managed to stop fighting long enough to go through with the wedding.

Remus shook his head, clearing the thoughts away and trying to focus back on the girl. Farrah. He remembered her as a first year, a stubborn little thing who didn’t

seem to bother making close friends. She always had her nose in a book, studying like mad, though Remus occasionally noted her reading some Muggle memoir as well.

“There’s not much I can do for her,” Lily was saying now. “Healing doesn’t work here the same way. I think we’ll just have to make sure she’s comfortable and hope she wakes up soon.”

Remus offered to carry her up to the girls’ wing, seeing as they couldn’t just levitate her up, and was pleased to find that his enhanced strength still took effect in this world. Dora and Sirius each made to follow him, saw the other move, and stopped awkwardly. Remus hid his wince and asked a handful of the girls nearby if they could show him the way. Lavender Brown and Ana Castilla volunteered.

As Remus settled her into the downy nest of a dorm bed, Farrah moved a bit restlessly and cracked open her eyes. Immediately, Remus took a step back to give her space, and so she could see Lavender and Ana. There was nothing worse, Remus knew, than waking up with a strange adult hovering over you when you were already scared.

“Farrah?” he said. “You’re in the Hufflepuff dorms. What do you remember?”

She rubbed her temples with a wince. “You-Know-Who attacked the castle. I…I died. This isn’t really Hogwarts.”

“Yes,” said Remus. “And you just collapsed here, in the afterlife. You gave us a pretty big scare. How are you feeling right now?”

“I feel…not right. Not just because I’m dead or whatever. I don’t know how to explain it.”

“You’re okay. Don’t push yourself. I’ll tell you what, I’ll go get Lily. She’s a trained healer.” Remus moved toward the door.

“Wait.”

He paused, greatly aware of Lavender’s and Ana’s rapt attention.

Farrah looked down at her hands. “Can they go get the healer? I have to ask you something.”

Warning bells rang in Remus’s head. Hogwarts, as a rule, was terrible about protecting its students’ well-being. The school was filled with dangerous creatures and architecture, not to mention hundreds of partially-trained hormonal teenage wizards. Despite all that, Remus personally thought that the school’s greatest failing in safety had to do with the teachers themselves. There were few hard and fast requirements to becoming a professor, as evidenced by the hiring of a fraud, a werewolf, and several murderers into the Defense Against the Dark Arts position. But what concerned Remus more when he had joined the Hogwarts staff was the lack of clear boundary setting between teachers and students. There were no rules about being alone with a student. No requirements for open doors or buddy systems when running private tutoring or detentions. Remus knew that the muggle school systems had these in place. And he could never imagine Flitwick or McGonagall or any of the current staff abusing a student. But still. People could talk. Better not to be alone with a teenager in the first place.

Still, he didn’t want to scare Farrah or make a big deal from what was probably a small matter. So he said lightly, “If you’d prefer. Girls, if you could leave the door open on your way out? And please ask Lily to give us a couple minutes.”

They nodded and filed out, Lavender throwing blatant glances behind her as she retreated. When Remus was certain they were out of earshot, he perched on a desk halfway across the room.

Farrah was still staring at her hands, and now she fiddled with the hem of the downy comforter on the bed. Remus waited patiently.

“Professor,” Farrah began. “You’re Jewish, aren’t you?”

Remus blinked in surprise. Of all the things that could be concerning her, his faith had been the last thing he would have guessed. “I am.”

“And most of the other students are Christian. But we all ended up here, together.”

Ah, Remus thought, understanding. “From what I can gather, we’re in some kind of catch-all limbo. Lily, the healer I mentioned, and Sirius have been here a while longer than us and they say that most anyone with a Judeo-Christian background will end up here.”

“But you don’t believe in heaven like a Christian does,” Farrah said.

“No, but I do—did—believe in life after death. That there was something better waiting for us after we died.” He’d had to believe it. Sometimes the thought was all that would get him through the agony surrounding the moon, knowing that someday, somehow, he might have the chance of existing without that pain. Many days he refused to believe that he himself could end up in a good place after death, certain he was damned for all eternity, but most of the time…most of the time, he held fast to his faith.

“Islam doesn’t believe in an afterlife,” Farrah said. “The Quran says that when we die, our spirits stay in our graves until the time of Judgment. My parents said it over and over as I was growing up.”

“You’re Muslim,” Remus said.

She looked up at him, meeting his gaze for the first time. “My family is. They’re muggles. I started wearing the hijab in primary school. Then I got my letter and learned that I was a witch. My family was surprised and confused, but they supported me. They took me to Platform 9 3/4 themselves.”

She paused, and Remus gave it a moment before prodding her. “And then?”

“And then I looked around at all the wizarding families and I couldn’t see anyone who looked like us. Between the robes and hats and cloaks, there were no turbans or hijabs, not even variations to go with the wizarding fashion. I looked around and realized that I already stood out because I was raised as a muggle. I didn’t want to be the only hijabi in the school as well. I took mine off on the train and only pulled it out when I saw my family on holidays.”  
Remus let out a deep breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. “So now you don’t know where you fit in the afterlife.”

She nodded. “I still believe in the tenants of Islam. But for the past five years, I haven’t done my prayers. I haven’t kept modesty. I haven’t celebrated the holy days that occurred during the school year. And now I’m here. Which my people, my faith, says doesn’t exist.”

“We are not in heaven or hell,” Remus said carefully. “It was described to me as a waypoint. A place to figure out our problems so we can move on. I don’t think that you being here means you can’t still do that with loyalty to your faith. This place has Christians, Jews, atheists. Why not give you someplace to figure things out before you go to where you’re supposed to be? I know I’d hate to wake up alone right now and not understand what’s going on.”

Farrah bit her lip, clearly not convinced. Remus sensed that this was a big enough matter that just his words would not settle her worries. But he could see her listening to him, see her considering the possibilities. She just needed some time and space to figure herself out.

Remus slid off the desk. “I’m going to check on Lily. I’ll be right back.”

He waited for her nod of acceptance and padded out of the dorm. Lily waited there, just out of sight, and her eyes shone as she hugged him. “I eavesdropped. Very impressive, Professor.”

Remus waved her away. “She would have gotten to it on her own. I just gave her some things to chew on. She’s the one with the hard work ahead.”

Lily smiled knowingly but didn’t argue. Instead, she knocked on the open door frame and Remus followed her inside.

“Farrah? I’m Lily Potter. Let’s take a look at you, okay?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As with Jewish!Remus, I've done my best to research and respect Islamic beliefs in this chapter. It's rather difficult to get religious diversity into an afterlife fic without coming at it sideways. >.< If I've misrepresented or offended, please do feel free to comment or PM.
> 
> Also: Yes, I am a schoolteacher. Yes, the vetting process for Hogwarts professors disturbs and angers me. As do many of the Hogwarts schooling practices.


	10. September 1992

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to new and old readers for joining me on this ride! I have a few days left of spring break to churn out as much as I can, and then updates are going to slow down a bit as my school year wraps up. Gotta take advantage of those long, uninterrupted writing days while they're here :)

Tonks knew right from the start that Remus was a werewolf.  


As part of auror training, every prospective at the academy had to take a rotation through various other departments of the Ministry, to understand that there was more to the job than epic battles and covert missions. Tonks aced her time in the Department of International Cooperation. She greeted every member of the Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes by name. (Someone sent around a memo she was coming. They all put their knickknacks and delicate objects out of harm’s way.) She couldn’t quite remember her time in the Department of Mysteries, but she had a vague sense that it had gone as well as any other trainee’s; that is, not well at all. And then came the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures.  


It was a Friday. When she rushed in at 9:07a.m., dreading what Moody would say when he heard (”Nine sharp! Punctuality saves lives!”), a grey-stubbled wizard barked at her to take a seat in the corner and not get in the way.  


Tonks obeyed, itching to ask questions but knowing from her stealth classes that sometimes, the best way to learn was by making oneself invisible. Figuratively, in this case, and for her that meant moving as little as possible. She observed as the stubble-chinned wizard ordered several others around. It was the full moon, she discerned, and the werewolves would be coming in for containment within the hour.  


Although the full moon would not begin to rise until 6:42 p.m., as marked by an eerie countdown clock conjured to float over their heads, there were countless preparations that needed to be done before containing a host of transformed werewolves in the Ministry. As Tonks observed, the Ministry workers checked and rechecked the magicked silver cages to ensure they would hold. They kept a running list of the werewolves who checked in throughout the day, most trickling in around noon but a panicked few showing up after three o’clock. These latecomers were greeted with brusque reminders that failure to report at least three hours before moonrise would result in a fine and referral for permanent confinement. Tonks winced at that. Even a tiger deserved better than life in a cage, and the tiger didn’t spend twenty-nine days of the month as a human.  


Despite all the urgency around the looming moonrise, Tonks grew restless sitting in her hard-backed chair. When she’d visited the other departments, the Department of Mysteries notwithstanding, the employees at least acknowledged her presence. Ludo Bagman actually explained his day-to-day process as he went through it, and she’d chatted with the regular MA&C staff to catch up on the departmental gossip. This man, who still hadn’t introduced himself, was completely ignoring her. She only knew his name was Tremont because of how often a staffer came up to him with an update. And his employees seemed to be following his lead in ignoring her.  


So, restless, Tonks edged over to the harried-looking secretary in charge of recording the werewolves’ arrival.  


“How about I fetch you some coffee?” Tonks asked. The secretary practically jumped from the seat.  


“P-pardon?”  


“Coffee. You all look exhausted. I can find a break room, bring back a tray. You look like a cream person. Are you a cream person?”  


“Er—yes. I suppose I am.”  


“Excellent. I’ll be back in a jiffy. You won’t even notice I’m gone.” Tonks was quite certain they’d forgotten she was there at all, so it was an easy promise to make.  


She only spilled the tray of drinks and had to return for more twice in total, so she was quite proud of herself as she floated the coffees in to the office. Tremont spotted her right away and stomped over.  


“This isn’t changing the comments in my review,” he said, even as he grabbed a lidded coffee marked “black.”  


“I never thought it would,” Tonks said truthfully.  


“Hmph.”  


She took that as her dismissal and made her way to a table along one side of the room, putting her full concentration on lowering the floating coffees to more stable ground. Employees drifted over as if drawn by a magnetic pull, and one after the other picked out a cup with varying levels of recognizing Tonks’ presence beside the tray. When the last witch approached, she turned to look behind her and then back at the tray.  


“You brought too many,” she said, puzzled.  


“These are for the werewolves,” Tonks said brightly. The woman’s lip curled up. “Decaffeinated, of course.”  


“You don’t need to cater to them,” the witch said. “They’re not human. Stick it out through this shift, and you’ll see what I mean.”  


Tonks had to work to keep her manufactured smile. “Well, I’ve got them now, and they’ll be cold and awful once it’s time for a second round. Might as well go for it, don’t you think?”  


The witch shrugged and wandered off. Carefully, Tonks levitated the tray again, now decidedly lighter, and made her way over to the holding cell.  


Technically, “holding cell” was not correct. The secretary had called it a waiting room when checking the werewolves in. But it sure looked like the small, bare rooms where the MLE kept detainees until they could be questioned. What’s more, the doorway was charmed so that anyone could go in, but a special password was required to exit back into the main office. Tonks didn’t care for euphemisms. She would call it was it was. A cell.  


With a glance at Tremont, Tonks stopped right at the threshold. She hadn’t been given the exit password, and she rather feared that Tremont would leave her in there if she entered the room fully, at least until it was closer to moonrise and the werewolves had to be moved to their individual cages. So she hovered just beyond the door frame, uncertain about the nature of the barrier, trying to decide how to pass the coffees along.  


As she deliberated, a sandy-haired man sidled over to her. He was thin, achingly so, and old scars criss-crossed his face. But he didn’t look like a fighter; there was a lonely air to him that suggested he no more wanted to be a werewolf than another person would want to be a suicide bomber.  


He spoke. “The same rules apply for objects as for people. You can send it in here, and one of us can bring it out when we leave.”  


“You’ll—you’ll remember?” Tonks said. Her unspoken words hung in the air. So close to transforming?  


The man’s tired eyes twinkled, and Tonks realized he was younger than she had first assumed. Thirty, maybe thirty-five at the most.  


“I’ve learned a few tricks to keep my wits about me as long as I can. It should be okay.”  


Impulsively, Tonks stuck her hand out. She felt coolness wash over it as it crossed the magical barrier, like dipping under a stream of water. “Nymphadora Tonks. I’m sorry you have to go through this.”  


The man took her hand gravely. “Remus Lupin. This coffee is a godsend.”  


The handshake was firm but not overpowering, and then they were each drawing their hands back as she levitated the tray forward and Remus was looking over the labeled cups.  


“You added cinnamon to this one.”  


“Oh! That was for me. I forgot about it.” And now it was on the other side of the barrier. She’d have to make herself another.  


Remus took the cup in question and held it gingerly, nudging the tray to float on to the next person. He blew a few times and then sipped. “Mmmm. Perfect.”  


“You like cinnamon? My mum makes the best tea with it. I can give you the recipe later, if you like?”  


Remus looked at her in surprise. “You don’t have to do that. I know you’re not permanent staff here. Don’t go out of your way for me.”  


“I don’t mind, really. Just tell me where to send it.”  


Remus hesitated. “Er, I’m not really staying in one place for very long these days. Its why I have to come here for the moon. And owls don’t like me much. Being a predator and all.”  


He gestured to the length of himself, and Tonks had to hold in a giggle. The man looked more like a schoolteacher than a beast.  


“You look me up, then. I’ll write my details down for you before I leave.”  


She remembered Remus Lupin long after an alarm sounded the hour mark until the impending moonrise. After being forced to watch the wolves strip naked, the employees paying their nudity no more attention than they would an animal at the zoo. After closing her eyes and whispering a quiet muffliato when the agonizing sounds of transformation became too much for her.  


Remus Lupin never did contact her for her mum’s recipe. But she heard the ruckus a year later when he was hired at Hogwarts. She was quietly amused that international wizarding privacy laws prevented the Werewolf Registry from outing him to the public. And then in ‘95, when Voldemort returned and Mad-Eye Moody told her about the Order, she was surprised to find a familiar mild-mannered werewolf at the first meeting.  


Tonks didn’t know when her pity and respect for Remus Lupin turned into something more. She tried not to think about whether it occurred before or after her cousin’s death, because Sirius was the only member of the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black who showed any decency to her and her mother. If she did have to think of it, she dismissed her feelings as a harmless crush.  


But then Sirius died. And Remus was hurting, and he needed someone to fill the void that had been left in his soul. Was Tonks a terrible person for making herself the bandage? Was she taking advantage of a lonely, hurting man? Tonks didn’t like to think about it. She just knew that she loved this man. And she would take whatever pieces of his broken self remained.


	11. A Mischief Legacy

After Remus had gone upstairs with Farrah, Sirius had little to do but pace the common room with his thoughts. The teenagers were abuzz talking about Farrah’s collapse, what it might mean, if they were at risk as well. Such talk hardly calmed his nerves.

So, to calm his nerves, Sirius looked for the other adults in the room. He spotted Lily and Tonks introducing themselves and realized with a jolt that Tonks had never known Lily or James before they died. She was his own cousin, after all, and he remembered his parents’ disdain at Andromeda’s betrayal of pure magical bloodlines. He hadn’t gotten to see Tonks growing up, but he’d been vaguely aware of the kid relative who brought even more shame to the family than Sirius himself. Still. The Marauders were so much a part of Sirius’s life, Remus’s life, that it seemed strange she wouldn’t know James and Lily. Then again, she’d been about eight when all their lives went to hell.

Shrugging off that uncomfortable line of thinking, Sirius scanned the room. With Farrah safely tucked away, the teenagers had broken up into their cliques and clusters. Fred talked animatedly with some sixth years, and Remus discerned from what he could tell partway through the conversation that Fred was recounting his legendary dismantling of the Umbridge regime at Hogwarts. Sirius bounded over, happy for a good laugh, and clapped Fred on the back when he reached the bit about the giant swamp.

“Wish we’d thought to do that,” Sirius said. “We might’ve even managed to shock McGonagall with that one.”

“She was your professor, too?” asked one of the kids, a peaky-looking boy who Sirius vaguely remembered following Harry around at school.

“Oh, McGonagall’s been at Hogwarts for ages,” Sirius said. “She must’ve taught, what, three generations by now? I knew some people who’s parents had her back in the 50s.”

Fred whistled. “No wonder she always knew when we were planning something.”

“Afraid you probably have me and Remus to blame for that. I think the Marauders probably broke the school’s record for most punishments and pranks.”

Fred’s eyes widened. “Blimey. You’re telling me you’re the Marauders? Purveyors of Magical Mischief?”

“Ah, right! You’re the one who gave Harry our map, aren’t you?”

“What map?” interrupted the peaky boy. Sirius and Fred both ignored him, Fred looking as if Christmas had come.

“It was you. You’re—hold on, which one are you? Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, or Prongs?”

Sirius winked at him. “I can’t just tell you everything, now can I? Three of the Marauders are here in this world, and the fourth one is a slimy, traitorous git. You owned the Map. I’m hoping you found some of the extra tricks we put in there, which means you’ve more or less met our sixteen-year-old selves. See if you can figure out who is who.”

“Blimey,” Fred said again.

Sirius laughed and clapped him on the shoulder. “Tell you what. Let’s go check out this castle sometime, see if it holds up to the source material. I’ve wanted to see the Room of Requirement ever since you lot discovered it in Umbridge’s year. And that swamp you and your brother did? We may not have magic anymore, but I still want to know how you did it.”

“Well, see, George found this spell, right? That keyed the swamp to the intentions of the person casting the counter-curse. We didn’t care if any of the decent professors got rid of it. Then George went and found…” But he trailed off, and a pained expression crossed his face. Sirius recognized it.

“Hey, you lot. Can you rustle us up some food? One benefit of the afterlife is I don’t need to worry about too much snacking.”

The sixth years nodded, seeming to sense Sirius’s true request to disperse. They made themselves scarce. Sirius turned to Fred and lowered his voice.

“You miss your brother.” 

Fred’s wince was answer enough. But he still said, “I keep forgetting when I wake up. Or when I’m talking to these lot, I keep expecting him to be just on the other side of the common room.”

“I know what it’s like to lose your best friend. It’s not something that’s going to just go away. People like us, we’re always expected to be cheerful. The life of the party, you know? And if it takes you a while to bounce back, they start asking questions you don’t want to answer. Same thing happened to me, sixth year at Hogwarts. Remus and I got into this huge fight and—well, never mind that. Point is, it’s okay to be upset. And if you don’t want that lot to see it, you can always come talk to me. Or Remus, I suppose. He’s not your professor anymore. You were in the Order, too. You’re one of us. A proper adult. Not like—” He motioned broadly at the chattering teenagers around them. “Some of them get it. The ones who fought. But it’s still different, living out in the adult world. Anyways, what I’m trying to say is, we’re here for you.”

“Thanks, sir—er, mate.”

Sirius grinned. “Doesn’t mean I’m telling you who’s who, though. Come on. Let’s see if all these passageways line up with their Hogwarts selves.”

 

***

 

They returned to the common room sometime later, grinning in camaraderie. It turned out a number of the passages and hidden doors had shifted since Sirius’s time at Hogwarts, more than he’d had the chance to discover during his brief visit in Harry’s third year. They’d had great fun running around, and Fred seemed over the moon to be able to show off to one of his mischief-making idols.

They were busy debating the finer logistical points of the Room of Requirement as they tumbled back into the Hufflepuff common room, when Sirius stopped up short. Remus and Tonks stood off in a corner, angled away from the comfortable chaos of the students around them, and appeared to be in an intense conversation. 

“Sirius? You okay, mate?”

Sirius shook off his shock. “Yeah. Sorry. Look, I’m feeling kind of peckish. Want to go see what we can find in the kitchens?”

“We’re dead. We don’t get hungry.” Fred gave him a look. Then he followed Sirius’s gaze and made a small hmmming noise. “Ah. That. Look, I remember what was like after the Department of Mysteries. Remus was a wreck. Tonks got him out of it, mostly. And she’s good people.”

“I know,” said Sirius.

“Right. So you should just go talk to them. Confront the awkwardness. Be a proper Marauder, brave and reckless and all that. So, the bloke you love married someone else. Happens all the time, doesn’t it?”

Sirius took a deep breath. Fred was right. If they were all going to be stuck in limbo together, he had to— “Wait a second. The bloke I love?”

Fred rolled his eyes. “It was obvious. George and I figured it out almost as soon as we started staying at headquarters. You two thought you were being subtle, but really. Sneaking into the same room at night? That’s kid stuff, mate. You didn’t even bother with disillusionment charms. And don’t get me started on how many times we caught you playing footsie with one of us.”

Wincing, Sirius thought back to those days. To the bliss he felt despite the looming threat of Voldemort, because Remus was there. And in enough time, Harry as well. The two people Sirius most cared about, safe under one roof. Even if the roof was 12 Grimmauld Place. Even if they decided to hide it from the younger members of the Order.

“Remus didn’t want you all to see a former professor that way,” Sirius admitted. “I told him he was daft, but he insisted. I think he was afraid of what Harry’s awful relatives may have taught him about homosexuals.”

Fred laughed. “Harry wouldn’t give a shit. Harry wouldn’t notice if you put a giant coming out sign in the foyer. Two of the blokes in his dorm were a couple and he never noticed. I think he was half afraid my sister would choose one of them over him, actually. George and I had a betting pool going on how long it would take Harry to catch on.”

“That boy,” Sirius said fondly, shaking his head. But the distraction had cost him. Across the room, Tonks noticed him and Fred standing by the entryway and said something to Remus, who turned. A look of panic flashed across Remus’ face before disappearing into a carefully controlled mask that Sirius recognized from their school days, when Remus had to hide the agony he was in around the time of the moon. Then, straightening as if he were bracing himself, Remus waved them over. Sirius had little choice but to comply.

“How’s Farrah doing?” Fred asked when they drew near. It took a moment longer than it should have for Sirius to remember that Farrah was the student who had collapsed.

“She’s stable,” said Remus. “Her condition is more psychological than anything, I think. Which makes sense given that we’re all, you know.”

“Dead,” supplied Tonks helpfully.

“Yeah. That.”

“So what can we do for her?” Sirius said. “Does Lily have a plan?”

“Remus has it all figured out,” said Tonks, and Sirius bristled at the cheerful pride in her voice. “But we were just talking about how these other kids might have similar issues come up. We’re all here with unfinished business, right? We’ll have to do something or this will turn into a de facto mental ward.”

“Exactly,” said Remus. “Lily’s not trained in psychological healing, but I want to see if she has any ideas. She’s still up with Farrah, so I haven’t been able to check with her yet, but I think we should set up some kind of support group. A place for the kids to talk about their feelings and their issues and see if that can’t at least show us where we need to go next in helping them.”

To distract himself from the comfortable synergy between Remus and Tonks, Sirius put on a grin. “We should stick Prongs in one of those groups. He always did have the brain of a teenager. And a thick one at that.”

“Prongs!”

At Fred’s exclamation, a number of students nearest to them looked around, alarmed and searching for some unseen danger. When they saw that Fred was practically jumping up and down in excitement, all but the most curious turned away. 

Rolling his eyes, Sirius said, “Come on, Weasley. Let’s hear it.”

“What is—” began Tonks. Remus took on a look of amusement.

“Four Marauders…and you said three are in this world…James Potter? Are you telling me we learned the inner workings of the castle from the James Potter?”

“You were always a quick one, when you decided to pay attention in your lessons,” said Remus, clearly pleased. “And Sirius, I thought we agreed not to corrupt the youth.”

“That was ages ago,” Sirius said with a wave. “He’s not a student anymore. Besides, I think the whole dying thing negates that sort of promise, don’t you?”

“’Til death do us part,” Tonks murmured, and then bit her lip. The temperature in the room seemed to drop several degrees.

“Right,” said Fred loudly. “So when are you going to introduce me to Harry’s dad? I want to hear all about your pranks when you were in school.”

“Where is James, anyways?” asked Sirius. He looked to Remus.

“He was still asleep when I went out with Lily. I suppose he wouldn’t know that we’re all over here.”

“All right, then,” said Fred, rubbing his hands together. “Why don’t we get the Marauders back together?”

Remus flashed a bemused look Sirius’s way, and Sirius mirrored it without thinking. He always thought the Weasley twins made for good contemporaries of the Marauders. Perhaps Fred was exactly the buffer that he and Remus needed in order to manage being in the same room together.


	12. April 1976

At some point, James Potter decided, his friends would have to stop being so thick and just snog each other already. If he had to watch Moony and Padfoot making puppy eyes at one another one more time while James was trying to plan a prank, he was going to hex them both.

The tensions had been building for a while. In their third year, Sirius admitted in a game of drunken Truth or Dare that he fancied blokes. Remus had started acting strangely after that, though James didn’t realize it until looking back much later. Then there was the way that Remus didn’t date, or talk about crushes, even while Sirius pined after every queer bloke at Hogwarts and a good number of straight ones as well. Remus claimed that he didn’t want to put anyone in danger of finding out about his furry little secret. But James was pretty certain that there was only one person Remus was interested in. And Remus would never put the Marauders at risk to act on his interest.

Still. In the handful of months since James, Sirius, and Peter had perfected their animagus transformations, the long looks and mournful sighs were just getting to be too much. So James had a plan.

He approached Lily Evans after Charms class. They’d been working on freezing charms and everyone, James included, left the room positively shivering. He resisted the urge to offer Lily his scarf as she blew into her hands and rubbed them. Much as he wanted to flirt, there were bigger matters at hand and his friends’ love lives had to come first.

“Evans. Hey, Evans!”

Lily didn’t slow. “James Potter, if you make one joke about warming me up, I’ll make sure a very sensitive body part of yours stays frozen for the next week.”

A responding quip flew to his lips, but he swallowed it. “Wouldn’t dream of it. Look, you have a free period now, right? I need to talk to you.”

“I have to go to a study table. You know, for the O.W.L.s we’re taking in a month?”

“It won’t take long. I promise. Please.”

It seemed to be the please that did it. Or maybe the pleading in his voice. But she sighed and said, “You have ten minutes.”

“Done.” Then James called ahead, “Peter! Oi, Wormy! Get over here!”

As Peter, who he had told to get rid of Remus and Sirius although he didn’t know the why, approached them, Lily shook her head. “I will never understand where you all got those ridiculous names, will I?”

James just tugged her into an empty classroom while Peter came in behind. James stuck his head out and looked around to make sure Remus and Sirius were truly gone, and then closed the door behind him.

“All right Potter,” said Lily, crossing her arms. “What’s this all about?”

“I am concerned about the wellbeing of our friends, the Messrs Lupin and Black. They are absolutely, undeniably in love with each other and far too dense to see it.”

To his surprise, Lily just tilted her head. “What makes you think Sirius loves him? From what I can see, he’s more interested in sleeping around than actually having a relationship.”

“He’s always happiest around Remus,” Peter interjected. “It’s like someone put an effervescence charm on him and keyed it to whenever Remus is around.”

“Has he actually said anything to you, though?” Lily pressed. “Do you know for sure?”

“I know my best mate,” said James. “He’s in love. Trust me. Why so skeptical, anyway? Do you want proof of Remus’s affections, too?”

Lily bit her lip and paused for a long moment. James’s patience was just hitting its limit when she finally spoke. “I don’t need proof. Remus told me himself. He’s been in love with Sirius since…oh, probably around second year.”

“What?” James said loudly, and the same time Peter exclaimed, “I knew it!” It took entirely too long for them to settle down and James to ask, “Why didn’t you say something?”

“Some of us are good at keeping secrets, Potter,” Lily said hotly. Peter stifled a giggle. “I swore to Remus I wouldn’t say anything. But, well, if you’re certain, I think he can forgive my telling you. After we’ve gotten them together, anyway.”

“Excellent,” said James, rubbing his hands together. “All right then. Operation Puppy Love is a go.”

“Puppy love?—oh, forget it.”

“So here’s what I’m thinking. First, we need to get them to relax enough that they’re not overthinking things so much…”


	13. Two Roads Converged

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry if anyone got weird double posting on this chapter. I'm new to AO3 and still trying to figure out some of the mechanics of the draft/preview function. I'm crossing my fingers that you guys don't get alerts every time I edit line breaks within a posted chapter.

Screw limbo or waypoint or whatever the Greater Powers called this place. This was hell. Remus was absolutely, undeniably, trapped in hell.

They had left the students at Hogwarts, reasoning that, already dead, there was only so much trouble they could get into unsupervised. Remus’s professorly instincts kicked in right before they left and dealt out an impressive lecture on responsibility and the buddy system, and detailed exactly how to find them if an emergency arose. But he sensed that they would keep each other in line. These were the brave souls who stuck around to fight against Death Eaters, after all.

As the adults hiked down the familiar path to Hogsmeade, Remus could almost physically feel the tension as it crackled through the air. To one side of him, Sirius and Fred talked animatedly about passageways and pranks and the mechanics of the Marauder’s Map. To the other side, Dora asked Lily enthusiastic questions about the old Order and her journey to becoming a healer.

“…I was a field medic, really,” Lily was saying. “Proper healer training takes years and years, but with the war going on they were trying to get as many people up to snuff as they could. I learned all sorts of shortcut spells and potions to get someone bandaged up and ready to move at a moment’s notice. The more experienced healers were horrified at the patchwork training they gave us. But it was necessary. I saved more than my share of lives before we had to go into hiding.”

  
“…See now, I always did like the Weasleys. Not all caught up in blood purity and all that. You’ve got your father’s ingenuity, I’d wager, and I sure wish I could’ve seen what you did with that joke shop.”

Neither pair attempted to draw Remus in. It was like they recognized that to do so would force him to choose sides, to declare himself in a way that the simple conversations should not have necessitated. Instead, he walked between them, trying to follow both conversations and failing considerably as his distracted mind sent him in a hundred different directions. He still hadn’t talked to Dora properly, other than to consult about Farrah. They’d hardly acknowledged the grim state of things concerning Teddy. Remus knew they had to have the conversation. Knew they’d have to grieve, and that the process would be private to them. Not something that Sirius could share. Yet there were so many things that Dora could not understand about his relationship with Sirius, despite having told her as much as he was emotionally able to in the months after Sirius’s death. Dora understood what Sirius meant to him. But did she understand how much she meant to him, as well?

He was so wrapped up in his thoughts that he barely registered arriving at the cottage. It was James’ greeting that grounded him back in the present, his coming to embrace Lily and Sirius and Remus himself as if it had been weeks rather than hours since he’d seen them last; it was Dora hanging back uncertainly, and then relaxing as James greeted her and Fred as warmly as he had his oldest friends.

They went into the cottage and settled down on the comfortable if threadbare couches in the living room. Remus wondered briefly, if this was the afterlife, why they didn't conjure up something nicer. But then he thought about the cottage in Godric’s Hollow where they had last lived. Were they were planning to raise Harry. James hadn't needed to work, strictly, because of the fortunate he inherited from his family. And with his efforts for the Order, and Lily’s healing, they brought a comfortable income. Yet they lived fairly frugally. So perhaps they kept the furniture not because they were forced to, but because it was what they imagined they would have grown old with, raise their son with, and maybe, maybe, have entertained guests just as they were doing now. Remus wondered at that. The idea of knowing your life was on hold because it wasn't your life anymore.

He was so lost in his thoughts that he hardly noticed when Dora sat down beside him. He bit the inside of his lip to prevent himself from saying something he’d regret. His eyes darted from Dora to Sirius and then back to Dora again. James was still chatting jovially with them all and pretending that none of this was awkward. But Remus couldn't do it. He just couldn't pretend that it was normal to have his oldest love and his wife in the room together. So even as James continued to babble on, Remus touched Dora’s hand lightly and motion with his eyes toward the front door.

He excused himself quietly and made his way outside. Dora followed close behind, and Remus didn't look at any of the others to see their expressions. He was certain that Lily would have a knowing look. He didn't want to know what Sirius was thinking, and had no idea how much Fred and understood of everything going on right now.

Once Dora joined him outside, the two of them stood for a long moment, looking up at the stars that were somehow still in this sky. Remus did not recognize the constellations, which told him more than anything that this was not his world. He was excellent at astronomy.

Dora broke the silence first. “You were right. One of us should have stayed with Teddy. I can't imagine what it will be like for him to grow up without his parents.”

“Harry survived it,” Remus said slowly.

She clenched her teeth. “You and I both know that kid was abused.”

Remus made a sound of agreement. “Yes, but Teddy will be raised by your mother. And Andromeda will take good care of him. Plus, he has Harry for a godfather which means he's got the Weasleys at his beck and call as well.

“He won’t be short on family,” Dora agreed. “But he won’t have us.”

Remus gave her a long look. “Sometimes,” he said, “I wonder if we were even ready to be parents. The fact that we would leave our child, the fact that we would abandon him like we did…”

“Don't think that way,” said Dora. “We would've been great. We would have raised him well.”

Remus didn't say anything. There was a long and pregnant pause. Then Remus started to say, “Look. About Sirius.”

“We should go back inside,” Dora interrupted. “It's getting late, and I want to be back to the kids before dark. Some of them have nightmares.”

Remus understood that. He knew the type of nightmares that battling and facing a monster could bring. They would have to find some way to take care of these teenagers with haunted eyes and far too much experience in their few years of life. Remus hated how the war forced people to grow up so fast. Hated how quickly it had forced him and his friends to grow up. And prevented some of them from growing old.

Remus knew that he should push the point. The Sirius issue was going to rear its head sooner or later, especially since this place seemed determined to keep them all in close quarters. But it had been a terribly long day and Remus decided to let himself be weak this one time. He would let Dora distract him. They would avoid this terrible conversation for the moment.

And now he had a choice. To stay with the Potters where Sirius slept just down the hall, to catch up on their sixteen years apart. Or to go back with Dora and Fred. The moment he thought it, he knew it was never really a question. He would stay with his wife. He would stay with the woman who stood by him even when he didn’t deserve her.

As Dora turned to go back into the cottage, Remus caught her by the elbow, loosely, so that she could easily pull away if she wished. He look into her eyes. Simply he said, “I love you.”

Dora bit her lip and nodded. “You too,” she whispered. And Remus’ heart broke a little bit.

Then they returned into the cottage and went through more mindless small talk. But this time, as they sat on the couch, Remus caught Dora’s hand and held it within his own. Her fingers, which in life were usually far chillier than his own, felt no cooler that his. He caught Sirius’ gaze lingering on their entwined fingers and forced himself to ignore it.

At some point, the conversation turned from memories of the past to talk of the present. James was explaining how, over the past years, he and Lily were able to look in on the lives of their loved ones, especially Harry’s.

“Although,” Lily interrupted, “It’s not an open window or anything. There are edits, almost, we think for the privacy of the living. We’ve never seen anything that we wouldn’t have had access to in life. The closest we’ve gotten is things Harry’s gone through that we would’ve found out about anyway if we were being proper parents to him.”

“And there’s time jumps,” James said. “It's like a pensive, but not. We soon realized that the more time you spend paying attention to it the bigger the time jumps. Almost like it was trying to show us that we couldn't put all of our attentions on it.”

“The biggest jump was from when Harry was about two years old to when he was nearly ten. Partly because I think we were spending so much time looking in on him. And seeing how awful my sister was acting towards him. But also because we think that it focuses on major time periods in the person’s life. Through his childhood he was living with the Dursleys, but he was comparatively safe. Then he went to Hogwarts. And everything started changing. We saw him face down Quirrell. We watched as the Chamber of Secrets became more and more dangerous.”

James added, “We watched Peter sleep in Harry's dorm every night for three years and were helpless to do anything to stop him. It was all the worse knowing that Sirius was being imprisoned for our mistake of trusting Peter.”

“No,” said Sirius. “I was the one who suggested the switch. I should have stuck it out.”

Lily said gently, “We all thought that Remus with the traitor.” She gave him a look of apology. “It's just, you were acting so secretive and so unlike yourself. And you would disappear for ages.”

Remus remembered that time. Right as the war was reaching a head and he was bogged down with responsibilities even they did not know about. That Dumbledore believed needed to be kept as secret as possible. Responsibilities that he only told Sirius a few years ago after the Azkaban escape, but Remus didn’t know if Lily and James had ever learned the details. Either way, it was a conversation for another time.

“I forgive you,” Remus rasped. “It is far into the past. Besides, we have more to worry about now than deciding who is to blame for mistakes more than a decade old.”

“We should probably be heading back soon, anyway,” Fred said. He had been unusually quiet this whole time. But then again, Remus thought, there was a lot of history here that Fred was not privy to.

They all rose and said their goodbyes, and there was an awkward moment among the hugs as Sirius and Remus faced each other. Neither made the first move, and then James was sliding in between them to grab Remus around the shoulders and mumbling about plans to go to the looking pool tomorrow. Remus squeezed James back gratefully. Then Dora, Remus, and Fred set out for the castle, and Remus forced himself not to look back as he slid his arm around Dora’s waist.

When they reached the castle, they were greeted by a rush students still hanging out in the common room. They converged upon the arrivals and Remus was overwhelmed by the sheer number of voices bombarding him, at the frantic faces demanding his attention. He put a note of command in his tone.

“Slow down. Now, one person, please tell me what happened.”

Ana pushed her way to the front of the crowd. She looked up at him, tears streaking down her face. “Giti is gone.”

“What? Where? ”

”We were talking,” Ana said, “Trying to see if maybe we could work things out, start dating again. And she kept saying how proud her grandmother would've been that she fought in the battle, and how she misses her grandma but she would get to see her again soon, and then she just started flickering in and out. And she told me that she loved me and that she would see me on the other side. And then she was just gone.”

Beside Remus, Fred shifted from one foot to the other. “But that's good. It means she’s found peace.”

“But without me?” cried Ana. “We finally stopped fighting! Why didn’t she wait for me?”

“Don't think of it that way,” Fred said suddenly. “Think of it more like she's waiting for you to be ready to join her.”

Remus shot a look Fred’s way. He’d said it just a little too casually, reminding Remus of the twin that had been left behind.

He knew they needed damage control before Ana’s alarm spread through the other students. Already Remus was concerned about the amount of time they’d had to process Giti’s departure on their own. Remus raised his voice to encompass the group. “I understand that this situation with Giti can be frightening. You’re in a new world and you don’t know the rules. But we have to believe that she has found peace. It is a good thing. It’s what we should all want. We don't want to stay here forever, right?”

Nervous laughter scattered throughout the room. Remus swallowed hard. The idea of leaving his friends, when he had just gotten them back, terrified him. Did that make him a hypocrite for telling the students to hope for it themselves?

Somehow, though Remus wasn’t entirely sure later what all he said, he managed to calm the students down and convince them to head off to bed. When the common room had emptied but for a handful of students, Fred looked to him and Dora and said, “I'll take it from here. I don't much feel like sleeping either, you know?”

“Thanks,” said Remus. There was a long pause. Feeling like a teenager again himself, not the least because of his former students watching them with distracted interest, Remus glanced at Dora. “Are you ready?”

She nodded. Then she led him to a suite of rooms that was clearly intended for the head of house. It boasted comfortable chairs that were identical to those in the common room, a warm inviting fireplace, and a small kitchenette off to the side. They lingered awkwardly in the sitting room, neither willing to make the first move, until Remus couldn't take it anymore.

“We really need to talk,” he said.

But Dora reached out and squeezed his hand. “Please. Not tonight. I just want to sleep beside you.”

So Remus, coward that he was, let her lead him into the bedroom. They undressed silently down to their undergarments and crawled into the large bed. Dora rolled onto her side and Remus scooted up behind her, feeling the soft skin of her back against his scarred stomach. He draped his arm loosely her waist, and she laid her arm across his to hold him closer. He breathed in.

Surrounded by her scent, her touch, it was like the past few nights had never happened. He could imagine that they were in their tiny apartment within Andromeda's house, and just down the hall Teddy lay asleep and waiting for them. He could imagine that when they woke up the next morning, they would check in with the Order for a fresh mission and begin their work, and somehow the idea of resisting Voldemort’s control sounded safer just then than the decisions he could only avoid for so long.

Remus buried his nose in Dora’s hair, which had reverted back to its natural mousy brown as she grew drowsy. He preferred her like this. Not putting on her armor. Not pretending to be anything different than she was. No matter how many times he whispered it to her in the dark of night, she still morphed her hair in the morning and made the slightest adjustments to her facial structure before venturing out into the world.

As Remus breathed her in, he felt his body respond to her proximity. There was a tingling in his groin and his heart rate began to pick up. Dora snuggled into him and made a sound of amusement when she found the evidence of his arousal. She wiggled a little more. He made an urgent sound deep in his throat. That was all the encouragement Dora needed. She rubbed her hips back against him and he pushed against her with equal force, losing himself to the zinging pressure of fabrics and skin. He dragged fingers across her bare belly and then moved up, up to her breasts and traced circles with his thumb, and she moaned as he found a sweet spot and lightened the pressure until he was barely ghosting his fingers along her skin. He could control his urges. He could be gentle with her. His light touch reassured him of it even as she threatened his control with her escalating moans of pleasure.

He moved his fingers downward then, offering that same pressure to the most sensitive spot between her thighs. He slid beneath her underwear, feeling a rush of slickness, and stroked up and down in a smooth motion. She gasped. He took the opportunity to drag her underwear off. They moved against each other, and at some point she reached back and tugged down the elastic of his shorts, releasing him to press bare skin against her rear. She arched against him and he lost his hold on her, but then he felt himself being coated in slippery warmth. She adjusted herself so that he could feel the source of that warmth, and before the wolf’s instincts could take him he caught her waist and rolled onto his back so that she sat astride him as she sank onto his length.

Dora cried out in pleasure and braced her hands against his thighs. Remus guided her by the hips, lifting himself up to meet her every time even as his shoulder blades stayed glued to the mattress. He closed his eyes against the arch of her back, her thrown back head, and focused on the delirium of where their bodies met.

When she came, gasping, Remus could feel his own completion building up inside. He held it back as she shuddered and shook above him, clenching spastically around his length, and he felt nearly dizzy with the effort of holding back. As her cries died down he pressed his thumbs into the small of her back, nudging her to lean forward, and she mumbled incoherently as he adjusted her in careful degrees. She sucked in a breath as he found the right angle, and now she moved only the smallest muscles as she stayed right in that spot, practically vibrating against him. She came again, and again, and he knew that if he could see her face her eyelashes would be fluttering, her mouth open in a a tremoring “o”. Only when he could feel her tiring, her movements against him becoming jerky and sluggish, did he let himself go. He held every part of himself still except for that uncontrolled spurting, and he felt the moment that gravity sent it dripping hot trails onto the sheets.

Dora extricated herself and collapsed face down on the bed beside him, throwing a leg and arm across his body and nestling her head into the crook of his arm. She murmured something contentedly but it was too muffled for him to make out. His arm around her shoulders squeezed her close. They lay there, sweaty skin pasted to sweaty skin and the scent of Dora all over him, the scent of what they had done all over the bed. Remus heaved out a wheezing sigh. Dora chuckled and cuddled closer, making little noises as she drifted off.

Sleep would not come so easily to Remus, however. He lay awake until he started to lose time, drifting in and out of awareness as he let himself be lost in his thoughts. He wasn't certain if he ever actually fell asleep that night.

In the wee hours of the morning, Remus finally gave up and eased himself out of Dora’s embrace. His underwear still hung about one of his ankles, and he kicked it off impatiently as he padded to the en-suite bathroom. There, he turned the shower on to scalding. He stepped under the spray. And stayed rooted to the spot until he burned.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't worry, Wolfstar shippers. You'll get your turn ;) 
> 
> Would you believe I hadn't planned on writing smut this chapter?? These two just kind of took over... For fun and curiosity, I'd love to see in the comments which ship you all prefer.


	14. August 1998

It was so easy to forget how much babies fussed. It was nature at work, probably, a coping mechanism so that new and exhausted parents didn’t sterilize themselves rather than go through the infant years again. And Teddy, it seemed, would not be quieted. He grumbled and spat, wailed and screeched. It was as if, at four months old, he knew that something was wrong with his world.

Andromeda, willowy and strong even in her golden years, scooped Teddy up and murmured comforting nonsense to him. Her cadence shifted into singsong, the tune a familiar one in this household. “Hushabye, don’t you cry, go to sleep little baby…”

She made it through five verses before he finally started to settle. She finished out the song just to be safe, and just as she hummed the last notes a dim light blinked in the hallway: the modified doorbell she’d charmed to keep the train of mourners and well-wishers from waking up the baby.

Andromeda brushed fond fingers across Teddy’s cheek, marveling at how much he resembled his namesake, her late husband. Then she made her way downstairs to greet her guests.

Harry, Ginny, and Molly Weasley crowded the foyer as she sighed in exasperation. “Harry, you’re practically family. You know you can just come on in.”  
Harry’s gaze flickered to Ginny’s and they shared a look, and then followed Andromeda into the kitchen. She started pulling cartons out of the fridge—a muggle invention her husband introduced her to—and flicked her wand to warm them up.

“Now. I have about five different casseroles and some nice soup. Which would you prefer?”

Molly sniffed one of the soup mugs appreciatively and conjured a spoon. “My kitchen is about the same. Our furthest relatives insist on bringing food, even that cousin who’s an accountant.”

“Mum cooks when she’s stressed,” Ginny added. “She’s made more food than the drop-offs combined.”

“How—how have you been handling things, Molly?” Andromeda asked. It was so easy to forget that they had all lost loved ones in this war. Here with Teddy, Andromeda had largely isolated herself these past few months.

Molly sighed. “George is taking it the worse, of course. He’s broken half the mirrors in the house with jinxes, and it would’ve been more if we didn’t go hide them when we realized why. Charlie’s already gone back to Romania. I can’t blame him for running. And the others…well, we’re doing about as can be expected.”  
“And you kids?” Andromeda asked. Harry and Ginny exchanged another of those looks, soft and tentative and new. They weren’t kids after all they’d gone through, but in that look Andromeda was relieved to see that they hadn’t lost all of their innocence in the fighting.

“I’m going back to Hogwarts next month,” said Ginny. “The castle’s still a bit of a wreck, but they say they’ll make do. Not sure who the Defense or Potions teachers

will be this time around.”

“And you, Harry? I heard they’re letting last year’s sevenths retake the year.”

Harry shifted uncomfortably. “Hogwarts will always be a home to me, but I can’t go back and pretend like none of this ever happened. Not after my year away. Hermione’s doing it, of course. But me and Ron are apprenticing in the auror office. Special consideration and all that.”

“They don’t want your N.E.W.T.s?” Andromeda asked in surprise, remembering the nail-biting of waiting for Nymphadora’s results to arrive.

He shrugged. “We’ll have to take some correspondence courses. Herbology, potions, that sort of thing. But they’re waiving the basic courses like DADA and Transfiguration. I guess there are some perks to saving their arses.”

Andromeda felt surprise at his vehemence, but not nearly as much as at the idea Harry would want to work in the Ministry. Extensive Veritaserum and Legillimancy was helping the Ministry weed out the Voldemort sympathizers, but they would still retain a good number of those who were plain amorally heartless. The Ministry’s core systems and beliefs would remain in place even with the change of leadership, and Andromeda knew Harry had already gone through extensive turmoil under the Ministry’s thumb.

They talked some more about lightish things, rebuilding efforts and friends come out of hiding and the like. Then around three, just like clockwork, a wail sounded from the upstairs hall.

Harry shot to his feet and asked in alarm, “Is that Teddy?” at the same time that Molly said, “I’ve got this, dear.” Andromeda waved her off and stood up with a stretch.

“It’s time for his feeding. Do you all want to come visit?”

Harry still looked as if Peeves had jumped out at him, but the Weasley ladies cooed and led the shuffle up to the nursery. Molly looked to Andromeda for permission, and at her nod scooped the baby up into her arms. Andromeda waved her wand and a bottle of formula appeared. She handed it to Molly.

“It’s been a while, but after seven children I’d like to think the instincts never really leave you,” Molly said.

“Nymphadora was an inquisitive child, but never this upset,” Andromeda said. “I know how to deal with a baby always trying to escape the crib or slipping my sight. This, not so much.”

“He’s just like Percy,” Molly said in satisfaction, and behind her Ginny made a face.

“Eww, Mom, don’t jinx Teddy with stuff like that.”

“Now, you leave your brother be. He came through for us, in the end.”

Harry cut in smoothly, “Mrs. Tonks—”

“Andromeda, please, Harry. Or Andy, you might as well call my Andy. My daughter’s not the only one who tired of such a complicated name.” Indeed. Tonks had rubbed it in her face plenty enough times how hypocritical it was for Andromeda herself to us a shortened, mugglish form of her name and still saddle Nymphadora with a classic Black moniker. 

“Right, Mrs—er, Andy. I’ve been meaning to ask. Remus made me Teddy’s godfather, but I’m not entirely sure what it means. You know I never really got to have a proper godfather with Sirius, and I’m pretty sure the Dursleys have butchered the traditions for my cousin.”

“Oh, nothing all that complicated. I don’t think they ever expected you to be a full parent to him at eighteen. You have enough on your plate as it is. No, I was thinking you could be more of a favorite uncle. I’ll be an old lady by the time he reaches Hogwarts years. He’ll need someone who can keep up with him and be a role model.”

“Harry, a role model?” snorted Ginny. “Have you heard how much trouble he got into at school?”

Andromeda smiled shrewdly. “You forget, my daughter married one of the greatest mischief makers in Hogwarts history. It would be a disservice to Remus’s memory if Teddy didn’t get into a bit of trouble now and then.”

Teddy finished his bottle then and made a soft gurgling sound. Molly shifted him around to burp him, and he let out the tiniest belch. Ginny leaned closer, and Molly handed Teddy over to her. Andromeda’s attention flashed over to Harry, but he was busy looking around the nursery. He didn’t notice how Ginny fussed over the baby, and Andromeda wondered in amusement when Harry would realize how much Ginny wanted a family of her own. It seemed that Teddy would be gaining more than one surrogate parent for the foreseeable future.


	15. Reparo Animus

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1000 hits! You guys are amazing. I've been dying to write this story for ages, especially since it's so hard to find any fanfics that settle the Sirius/Tonks debate without making Tonks completely unlikable. Thank you for going on this angsty, emotional roller coaster with me <3

As Remus was pulled back to his own body, he felt a lurch as the loss of his son hit him again. Was this what Lily and James went through every time they checked in on Harry? Beside him, Dora was rubbing her head as if it ached. But she was smiling and he could see in her eyes the same joy that he felt. Their son was healthy.

Their son was safe. He was cared for and loved.

James and Lily were also recovering from the experience, for they had decided it would be best for them all to gaze into the looking pool as one. Sirius had abstained from the discussion until they were nearly ready to leave and then declared that he would rather stay home. Remus felt something at his absence, but he couldn’t tell if it was relief or disappointment.

The pool lay a ways into the mountains, a trek that had taken them much of the morning. Remus had asked, as they hiked, whether there was something inherently magical out here in on the rugged paths.

“It’s all bound to our perception,” Lily had explained as they hiked. “When we first arrived, we found what we thought was a pensieve in Hogsmeade and were able to look in on the living world. But it was too easy to get wrapped up in it that way, and one day the pensieve wouldn’t work anymore. It took ages of exploring to find this place.”

“I reckon any reflective surface could do the trick,” James added. “But the angels or whoever is in charge here must have decided it was time to kick us in the arses. We come out here once a week or so, now.”

“And the synchronous vision? You’re sure it will work with all for of us?”

James shrugged. “Lily and I’ve only ever gone together. I wasn’t sure if it would still work with you two. But if Harry and Teddy happen to be together…and since Harry is Teddy’s godfather, I reckon it should work.”

“Most people don’t stay around here long enough to learn the intricacies of it all,” said Lily. “We’ve had to guess most of it as we go.”

“Who cares about the mechanics?” Tonks had said impatiently. “Let’s find out if it works.”

Now, they stood beside the reflecting pool and Remus was simply speechless. His son. His Teddy. Alive and well.

Tentatively, Dora slid up beside him and squeezed his hand. “He’ll be good for my mum. Keep her from dwelling too much on things.”

On the fact that she’d lost her husband and daughter within a few months? Remus wanted to say. But he held himself back. There was no reason to be unkind to Dora. Instead he said, “When can we look again?”

James and Lily shared a knowing look. “Like we said. You have to pace yourself, or it goes all out of sorts. I’d give it a couple days before you come back, a week to be safe.”

Remus didn’t know if he could wait a week. And now he understood what Dumbledore had said, once, about the Mirror of Erised. It was truly addicting to have a window to the thing you most desired but could not truly access.

“He did seem all right, though, didn’t he?” Remus asked. “He was sleeping right and taking the bottle and all?”

“Look at you, being the worrier.” James went to ruffle his hair, and Remus’s attempt to duck out the way somehow turned into a tussle, each of them trying to hold the other immobile. When they were in school, Remus would have won with no contest. So much so that he likely wouldn’t have engaged in the first place for fear of hurting his friend. But his werewolf strength didn’t seem to give him the same edge here, and he had to throw in some effort to keep James from flattening him to the path. 

“Remus? Wrestling? I must be dead.” Dora laughed.

Lily said fondly, “They were a bunch of boys once, remember. Giant, overgrown puppies. And faun.”

James grunted in protest. His distraction was just what Remus needed, and he swept James’s legs from under him and landed heavily on James’s ribs. “Oof! Gerrof—gerrof, Moony, you’re heavy!” Below him, James twisted until he could glare at Lily. “We were only animagi starting fifth year.” “Then you had no excuse for your behavior before then,” she said primly.

Remus twisted out of James’s hold and scrambled to his feet, panting. They eyed each other warily. Then James relaxed. “Missed having you around, mate. You actually use a bit of strategy, unlike Padfoot.”

“Well, maybe that’s why I win,” Remus retorted. Then he remembered who they were talking about and held back a wince.

James opened his mouth as if to say something more, but Lily broke in. “So Remus, earlier you said you wanted to talk to me about the Hogwarts kids.” Remus shot her a relieved look. “Right. Right. So, I had a thought…”

 

***

 

They made their way to the castle to reconvene with Fred and Sirius, who were entertaining a group of students in the common room. From what Remus could tell, they were comparing stories on the various secret passages throughout the castle. Remus observed the captivated students and nodded to himself; they were all vicarious adventurers from Remus’s memory, though none of them had been particularly troublesome as students. Several had been regular hangers-on at the end of Remus’s DADA lessons, wanting further stories of his work with dark creatures and curses.

Remus scanned the rest of the room and found Farrah in her usual corner, quietly listening to the theater dominating the room. He also saw Ana surrounded by several of her Ravenclaw friends, who seemed to be comforting her with touches and hugs. He remembered her despair over losing Giti. Yes, he thought, we do need to figure something out for these kids. 

Their arrival was met with mild interest, but most of the students’ attention returned to what they were doing. Fred and Sirius spotted the newcomers and began to wrap up a story that Remus remembered well. It was hard to feel bad about tormenting someone as distasteful as Filch. The grouchy caretaker hadn't changed much over the years.

James motioned for Fred and Sirius to join them, and the six stepped off into an armchair-lined alcove.

“How’d it go?” Sirius asked, his gaze going to Remus and then flittering away.

“Harry’s going for auror,” said James, clapping Sirius on the back. “Knew he’d do it. Pay up.”

“You two bet on my son’s career prospects?” Lily asked dangerously as Sirius fished something out of his pocket. Not money, Remus saw, but some sort of small memento.

James grinned as the item disappeared into his robes. “If it makes you feel better, Padfoot said he’d become the next Defense Professor. So either way, you’d be proud of him.”

“I’m not giving in yet,” Sirius warned. “He’s still got plenty of life to change his career plans.”

“Bugger both of those,” said Fred. “Harry gave me and George the money to start our joke shop. Auror? Professor? Hardly. I say he throws it all away and just lives out his fame as the man who defeated Voldemort not once but twice. Shouldn’t need a proper job after all of that.”

Familiar with this old banter, Remus cleared his throat before Sirius or James could respond and get things spiraling too far off track. “If we could address the business at hand, please?”

He filled Sirius and Fred in on the plan he’d hatched on the hike back from the reflecting pool. As expected, they were both game for it, though Sirius looked a bit terrified at the idea of dealing with feelings. They hashed out their plans, with Remus doing an impressive job of avoiding Sirius’s eye and deflecting his questions over to Lily. Finally, he felt like they had begun to circle on themselves.

“Right,” he said tersely as he sent a Hufflepuff boy to go gather any students off in the dorm rooms. “Here goes nothing.”

When the students had assembled, Lily waved to get everybody's attention. She took a couple deep breaths and Remus remembered suddenly that she was not fond of speaking in front of large crowds. A dozen pairs of curious eyes took her in, still in awe of her through some combination of her commanding arrival during the Farrah crisis, and and still starstruck and the idea that this was the same Lily Potter who fought off Lord Voldemort in the first war. Remus caught her eyes and held them. She gazed at him steadily, and then her attention moved to a presence beside Remus. James. Her gaze melted, and Remus was nearly overcome at the love he beheld there. A moment’s time and he could see that James looked at her the same way. To love someone that much. After so much time, after going through so much…Remus envied them.

“I'd like to try something with you guys,” Lily said to the crowd as they fidgeted before her. “We've all been through a lot. You have lost loved ones either because they have died or because you have. You can't expect to just move on from that without some help, so Remus—Professor Lupin—and I were talking, and we want to try something out with you. If it doens’t work, that’s fine. You all of age or close enough to it to make decisions for yourself. But if it does, we might just be able to help you find some peace.”

She directed them into a loose circle, moving furniture where necessary and encouraging them to get comfortable. A number of students leaned against their friends or held hands. Farrah, Remus noted, edged closer to a Gryffindor sixth year though they did not speak or acknowledge each other. The older wizards spread out among them, and Remus found himself almost directly across from Sirius. He averted his gaze, looking instead to Dora a few students away.

“Is everybody comfortable?” Lily asked. She sat cross-legged on a plush rug and still looked ill at ease. Still, Remus could tell that she was trying to put on a good face for the others and suspected that only those who knew her best would detect her discomfort. “All right, then. I want you to close your eyes, if you wish, and relax. Focus on your breathing. Listen to your breath as you take a long breath in through your nose… and then out through your mouth. In…out. Yes, I know we don’t really need to breathe, Colin. Just focus for me. There you go. Fill your lungs until you can’t hold any more…and let it all out. Good.”

As she spoke, Remus allowed his eyes to half-shut, the closest to relaxed he would be in this mixed company. The people around him became blurry figures through his eyelashes, indistinct, and he followed Lily’s instructions as he tried to quiet his mind. He had slept with Dora last night. Not just that; he had made love to her, and her to him. Yet today he felt his attention drawn, over and over, to the long-haired man seated across from him. And he felt a tingle of…something. Love? Attraction? Affection? Remus couldn’t separate the pieces out. They all wove together, a shining braid of history and longing that Remus didn’t want to even try understanding. He was with Dora. He loved Dora. To even consider Sirius that way was a betrayal of his wedding vows.

But Dora knew his history with Sirius. Knew it and respected it. She would understand, wouldn’t she? That he still had feelings for Sirius—There it was. The thought he kept pushing away. But wouldn’t it be just as dishonest of him to pretend he didn’t feel these things, pretend seeing Sirius again didn’t feel like coming home? Remus let none of this show on his face as Lily talked them through a meditation. He kept to her original counting of breaths, that steady beat, and kept his expression blank as a freshly washed chalkboard. He didn’t look to see if Sirius was peeking as well. To see if Dora suspected. Remus had plenty of practice at hiding his thoughts, and he employed all of it now. Their focus had to be on the kids. On supporting them. On helping them move on. Of Remus moving on from Sirius…

Finally, thankfully, Lily wrapped up the meditation. Then she called for them all to form small groups, preferably with people they were comfortable with. This was the reason for convening before they gathered the students. For each of the adults were to pair off and lead a small group. Lily swore the mind healers at Saint Mungo’s did it all the time. “Support group,” she’d called it. The term brought to Remus’s mind the gatherings of werewolves, freshly turned and frightened, being forced under strict observation by the Ministry. They were occasionally reminded to “look to your support people,” as if any of them were more capable of controlling the wolf than anyone else.

Lily and Tonks took a cluster of girls off to settle down by the fireplace. Another group grabbed Fred and James and dragged them to a nook. James looked apologetically back as he was led away, and Remus followed his gaze to see Sirius looking pleadingly after him. The dynamic duo separated, it seemed. Which left him and Sirius to lead the last group, Remus realized with a start. Merlin’s balls. No wonder Sirius looked so put out.

Farrah had stuck around for his group, and Ana and Lavender too. From Lavender’s not-so-subtle glances, he suspected Sirius had been a draw for at least some of them. A handful of others from a mix of houses had stayed as well, and Remus noted absentmindedly that the longer they were here, the less house loyalty seemed to matter.

Enough of distracting yourself, he thought firmly. Lily’s trusting you to lead this.

So he began the discussion. First by describing how he’d felt when he first arrived in limbo, the monotony and bewilderment of sitting in the courtroom and waiting, always waiting. Then the surprise and relief when James came to greet him in Hogsmeade.

The others shared turn by turn. Remus knew from Lily’s brief instructions that they needed to start light. They needed to get the kids to trust them and each other so that later, they could get to the truly difficult work. And so they shared. And Remus was careful to pay attention to each of them, to nod and comment and offer some gentle understanding. He was careful, too, not to look at Sirius for too long, or even at all, except for when he really needed to for the sake of the conversation.

When they had all finished speaking, Remus caught Lily’s eye. She nodded and waved him over; her group was done too. James and Fred’s group took the longest. Remus tried not to eavesdrop, but between that or facing Dora and Sirius together, Remus found himself taking the coward’s way out. It was so easy with his wolf ears, even if it meant hearing the anguish of so many young hearts. Here was a Gryffindor sixth year who’d fought with her parents right before they’d been killed by a Death Eater raid. Here was a Hufflepuff seventh who’d never told a crush how they’d really felt. So many lives thrown off course by Voldemort’s reign. So many lives ended before they’d truly begun.

As James began to wrap things up, a touch on his elbow had Remus reaching for his wand on instinct. It was gone, of course. And it was probably better that he didn’t hex Sirius anyways.

“What?” Remus said brusquely.

“Can we go for a walk?” Sirius’s words were quiet. Tentative.

“We’re babysitting.”

“They’re nearly done. Please. Just a walk across the grounds.”

Remus looked to Sirius, and to Dora, who was talking animatedly with Lily. “Okay. Fine. But only if you promise me something.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. After this conversation, you stop trying to get me alone. After this, anything you want to say you’ll have to do in front of James or Lily or whomever.” Not Dora. Though that would certainly act as a bucket of ice water on Remus's flaring emotions.

Because Remus wasn’t certain his control could last even this one time off on their own. He wasn’t certain he could keep from saying or doing something that would wreck the precarious balance he was keeping for now. Did he want to kiss Sirius? Ruin him? Remus didn’t know. He just knew that control was the one thing he prized most in himself. And to keep control, he had to keep away from Sirius Black.

 


End file.
